


The Mage

by Wintergrew



Series: The Thief [2]
Category: South Park, South Park: The Stick of Truth - Fandom
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Character Death, High Fantasy, M/M, Middle Ages, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Sequel, Slow Burn, South Park: Phone Destroyer AU, South Park: The Stick of Truth, Stick of Truth AU, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24055666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintergrew/pseuds/Wintergrew
Summary: For three years Zaron has been engulfed in a seemingly endless darkness that has devastated everything. The Barbarian Tweek finds himself at the forefront of the one resistance that can hope to restore the land. But will he be able to put aside his personal feelings in order to do the right thing?Sequel to The Thief
Relationships: Clyde Donovan & Craig Tucker, Clyde Donovan/Bebe Stevens, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Token Black/Nichole Daniels
Series: The Thief [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667671
Comments: 120
Kudos: 261





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all SO SO SO much for the feedback from The Thief! I made a tag of the tumblr fanart, so everyone please check it out https://wintergrew.tumblr.com/tagged/thief-fanart 😭 I am EXTREMELY grateful for the support
> 
> If you are new here, this is a sequel! Please read the first part first.

Blizzards had become a near constant occurrence on the mountains as of late, but this one was particularly strong. The wind blew at far below freezing temperatures at speeds that would make it difficult for someone to traverse on a flat plain--let alone a steep mountain side. The mountains were difficult to climb even during a normal, warm summer. For anyone to climb them at this point, however, it would be a near death sentence.

Even so, one lone figure still chose to attempt the journey. Step by step in the deep snow up to his knees, he pushed forward against the oppressive winds. He cupped his hand out in front of him to keep the snow out of his eyes, but it helped very little. The snow was falling thick with low visibility that nearly created a total whiteout. Luckily, however, he had spent much of his life training how to travel without relying on sight. Managing to keep himself moving without him or his heavy fur cloak flying off the mountain, he used his years of counting steps and relying on route memorization to find the cave he needed.

_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _

His hand, dangerously red from the cold, pounded at the door. He expected the door to be frozen, but it was warm to the touch.

A minute passed. No response.

_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _

He knew it was possible that his knocks would be ignored. That was a calculated risk made before he even agreed to make this dangerous journey. Still, these were desperate times.

_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _

He knocked a third time.

He wouldn’t turn back. He’d stand there until he froze to death if he had to. It was what he prepared himself for. The freezing wind burned his skin, and it was as if it begged him to close his eyes, to drift into sleep.

Well, at least if he was going to be left outside, at least he knew with this weather it wouldn’t be too long for the cold to take him. If it weren’t for his strong resolve to see this through, the peaceful drift into sleep would be tempting even then.

But as if fate had heard his darkest thoughts, he heard a noise at the door. A loud noise from the other side of it, as if it were undoing a complicated series of mechanical locks. After the sequence ended, the door slowly opened, bringing forth a shining light that nearly blinded him.

“Human?” the voice asked from slightly below him in the Kupa language, albeit with an accent. He had a thick, scraggly looking red beard and long hair that came out from either side of his metal hat. “Wait,” he said, “Markings. You...Barbarian, no?”

“ _ Dzi kij bivlini _ ,” he said in the Dwarven tongue.  _ I come in peace. _

“ _ D’rvyn kziu?”  _ the dwarf asked in his own tongue, “You speak our language?”

“Yes,” he responded in Dwarven, “I am Prince Tweek of the United Barbarian Tribes.”

“I see,” the dwarf responded back, still in his own tongue. He stroked his beard in contemplation. “Well, come on in then. Out of the cold.” He opened the door fully and gestured his arm out for Tweek to enter.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding his head respectfully as he entered. The instant warmth of the inside of the mountain was an immediate physical relief, though he didn’t have time to sit and enjoy it. He merely followed the dwarf silently down the long paved tunnel.

If he were to get distracted, perhaps the handiwork of the tunnel would be better for him to get distracted by, anyway. He heard stories about the civilizations carved out of the inside of the mountains. Yet the stone passageway with its many torches lighting up the intricately carved walls and patterned textured flooring was still more than he dreamt of.

Even so, he knew now was not the time to appreciate it.

“I hope you take no offense, your highness,” the dwarf said as he continued down the seemingly endless passageway, “But I never thought your kind left your forest, much less knock at our door.”

“Well, these are odd times, aren’t they?”

“You could say that again,” he laughed a deep belly laugh, “But we Dwarves have fared better than most. We already avoid the sun.” He nodded to the left, towards another corridor. “This way.”

“I’m glad,” Tweek said, “But you have to understand that with the Dark Kingdom that could change at any moment.”

“Why would it?” he asked, not looking back at Tweek as he continued down without missing a beat. “We’ve always stayed out of your human-human or human-elf conflicts. We stay in our mountains, they stay outside. We don’t question the Dark Lord’s authority, and in turn thus far he hasn’t questioned our king.”

The passageway led to another door. Even larger and grander than the one at the outside of the mountain, made of what seemed as solid gold. An ironic size given the short stature of the Dwarven people, although the handle was down to their height.

“Speaking of him…”

“You want to speak to him,” the dwarf cut in, “I figured that. Don’t worry, I’m taking you to him.” With that, he reached for the doorknob and swung it open with all his strength.

On the other side of the door was the legendary grand Dwarven City. Even in the past, when the great Dwarven tunnels were opened for travel between the north and south of Zaron, it was quite difficult to obtain a permit to travel into their main city, something that always increased the allure to the rest of the world. The carved out, underground city was known for its impressive stonework architecture, better than anywhere. 

It was bustling in the city. Dwarves going about their day in the artificial brightness. People carrying baskets of food, filthy miners returning from work with their sacks of minerals, and young people laughing about. It was as if this city was completely untouched by the world outside. As if it was stuck in a time warp.

“Castle is this way,” his guide said. Tweek did his best to suppress his thoughts of the city and puzzled looks from the Dwarves as he followed along.

The castle wasn’t hard to spot, nor was it far from the door they had entered from. It was a large structure carved into the side of the inner mountain wall. The aesthetic was far different from anything he had ever seen, with it’s smooth almost cubic designs going up impossibly high. As they reached the bottom of it, two guards stood with impossibly large and heavy looking axes crossing each other.

“A Barbarian prince,” his guide told the two guards, “He was near freezing to death at the southeastern door.”

Tweek had almost forgotten how cold he once was with how warm it was inside the mountain. Sweat was pooling heavily under his large fur cloak.

“What’s a Barbarian doing in the mountains?” one of them asked, not even looking at Tweek.

“I wish to speak to your king,” he said in Dwarven. The two guards eyebrows raised at the sound of their language coming from him.

“You have the accent of a Barbarian and the facial markings of your royalty, but anyone could draw that,” the other guard said, “Prove yourself.”

Tweek sighed. “Our markings  _ are _ our sole identifier,” he said. He reached for his pouch and pulled out a necklace, one with three solid gold coins with foreign letters carved on them. He handed it to the castle guard closest to him. “But maybe this will do.”

“This isn’t Barbarian,” he said, confused as he analyzed it, “This is--”

“It’s the High Elf King’s necklace, yes,” Tweek said, “He is who sent me. He knew you may question my identity, so he had me bring it with me for the very least to confirm his intentions.”

The guard analyzed it closely. Dwarves, as a mining community, were the last people who could be fooled by a counterfeit. He let out a huff and handed it back to Tweek. “Very well, then. Come on.”

“Thank you,” Tweek said. He briefly wished farewell to the Dwarf who guided him and followed one of the two castle guards in.

The inside of the palace matched the outside’s aesthetic every bit as much. The impossibly long and carved out looking aesthetic was hard for him to not appreciate. The sounds of laughter among the halls and sounds of workers and those who resided in the palace talking and going about business as usual, however, created an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“This way,” the guard said, guiding him towards yet  _ another _ set of large doors, “The King is in his throne room.”

“Thank you,” Tweek said, nodding his head respectfully.

“At this time of day, only royalty may enter,” he said, “Which is good fortune for you, Barbarian Prince, but it means I can’t follow you.”

“Thank you for leading me here.”

The guard laughed, a loud baritone sound from the bottom of his stomach. “You know, you’re nothing like how I expected Barbarians to be.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, take care.”

“You too,” Tweek said. The guard laughed again, the sound echoing in the palace walls as he headed back towards his post. He watched and waited until he disappeared before turning back to the door.

Although impossibly tall, due to being made for Dwarven usage, Tweek had to bend down to reach the door handles. The doors were heavy, though the ingenious Dwarven craftsmanship and innovation made them much lighter in relation to the size and metal materials. He was able to open both of the double doors with relative ease.

“Why come in, my Barbarian Prince guest,” a voice called in from the other side of the grand throne room. The room was incredibly large, much larger than that of the High Elf King’s or the practically nonexistent one the Barbarians had, and yet the acoustics of the room’s design made the far away voice perfectly clear.

“How did you--?”

“I received a message when you entered,” the king said from his large stone throne, “Now come here. You can leave your cloak anywhere, I’m sure you’re hot in that thing.”

“Th-Thank you,” Tweek responded. It was a relief to take off that heavy thing and place it down on a nearby chair. Even if it wasn’t incredibly hot, he always preferred having nothing on his upper half. He placed the cloak down quickly and turned to approach the king as fast as he could while still walking respectfully towards him.

“You are far from home, aren’t you?” the king said as Tweek grew near. 

“Not the furthest I’ve ever been.”

“The High Elf Kingdom has that honor, I take it?” he asked. He was young, no older than a teenager. It was odd to Tweek that he was  _ able _ to take up the position, as he as an adult was still not able to be crowned King yet. Still, now wasn’t the time to think about such things.

“I’ve been part of an alliance with the High Elf Kingdom, you could say,” Tweek said, “High Elf King Kyle is who actually sent me.”

“Barbarians and elves working together, huh?” he laughed, although due to his young age not nearly as deep and baritone as an adult male Dwarf. “Things must really be bad topside.”

“Yes.” Tweek lowered his head.

“If you can’t tell by now, we Dwarves have been getting by just fine,” the king said, “We have nothing to do with any of that. So if you’re coming here to try to recruit us, you’re asking us to risk the peace we maintained.”

“You have to know that could change any day.” Tweek lifted his head and approached the king by a few more steps. 

“Why would they?” he laughed, “The Dark Lord has issues with the humans and elves. Us Dwarves have  _ always _ stayed out of human-elf affairs. We’ve even opened up a few of our tunnels to let them cut through the mountains for good measure.”

Tweek bit his lip. It was the same sentiment as the first Dwarven man he spoke to.

“They could want more,” he said, “The Dark Kingdom, they don’t stop. You have so many resources here that sooner or later they’re not going to like you keeping them all.”

“We’ll deal with that if it comes to it,” the king narrowed his eyes, “But thus far it’s been three years without trouble. If you’re wrong, we would be risking our safety for nothing.”

“Well, what about the safety of the  _ rest _ of Zaron?” Tweek asked, feeling his emotions taking control of him, “There has been no true sunlight in over three  _ years _ .”

“We’ve done just fine without it for far longer.”

“Yes, because you have the  _ resources _ for it. The humans and elves do not. Their crops have all been dying, creating unprecedented famine and starvation. Their magical Dark Army is ruthless, showing no mercy to countless people. The world is  _ dying _ .” Tweek’s heart pounded and his hands unconsciously balled into tight fists. He took a deep breath. “But  _ you _ , you Dwarves...you have all the technology to survive. You, a magicless people have been able to win countless wars against magical human and elven armies for millennia all with your own intuition and craftsmanship. If anyone can help defeat the Dark Kingdom, you can.”

All traces of smile and laughter were gone from the young king’s face. He let out a long sigh. “The old wars we’ve fought against armies of elves or the likes of Kupa...or hell, even the  _ old _ Dark Kingdom of not that long ago...They have nothing on  _ this _ .”

“The Stick has been in the possession of Kupa for the entire lifetime of their Wizard,” Tweek said, “It’s the secret to how he’s lived so long. And yet, even still, they’ve been defeated in wars countless times. It’s--”

“The Wizard was held back by the McCormick Dynasty who were the true owners of it,” he cut him off, “And you know that this is not just about The Stick.” 

Tweek felt his entire body grow cold. “I know, but--”

“The Dark Lord’s unlimited control of The Stick is one thing, yes,” he went on, “But that Dark Mage of his is also not a force to be reckoned with.”

“I...I know.”

“Then you have to understand why we have to protect our own.” The king’s voice grew soft and sympathetic.

“Listen,” Tweek said with a deep breath, “I know. I know it seems impossible to defeat the Dark Kingdom. But if we have  _ any  _ chance, it would be while your kingdom is still fully operational. We’re not asking you to endanger your kingdom and your people by joining us publically. All we want is a place for our rebellion to stay, to learn from you. We have nowhere to go, and if things go on as they currently are we could be completely destroyed within a few months. And if that happens, when the Dark Lord and his Dark Mage come knocking at your door, you’ll have no one to protect you, to help you. But if we do this  _ together _ maybe we still have a fighting chance.”

“Well--”

“I know that despite things being better here than anywhere else, you’re still suffering. You rely on the rest of Zaron just like everyone else. That’s why we  _ have  _ to help each other right now.”

The king sat in his throne for a few moments, twiddling a finger in his curly red hair.

“When you say you want to secretly bring some of your rebellion here,” he finally said, “Just how many do you mean?”

A feeling of temporary relief grew inside of Tweek.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay chapter 2!! Thank you all for the feedback for the first chapter!
> 
> Chapter updates will probably slow because for this I have to write ahead. However, I think I'm at a point where this is safe to post.

“Just a little ways more,” Jimmy said, “We should b-b-b-, we should be there in a few more hours.”

“Good,” Stan replied, though he wasn’t looking at Jimmy. He analyzed the small black stone in his fingers, carefully turning it around.

“Still nothing?” Tricia asked.

“Nope,” Stan said with a sigh, clutching his fist around it.

“We haven’t reached our destination yet, either,” she said, “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Hope so.” Stan put the stone back into his pocket.

“That’s all we really have to run on lately,” Jimmy said, “And at least it hasn’t turned red.” He spoke with a more upbeat tone and smile on his face in comparison to the other two. Somehow, he always managed to keep a light attitude through all of this. It gave Tricia some peace. At least when it wasn’t concerning.

“Right,” Tricia forced herself to smile back at Jimmy, “Let’s keep going, then. It’s already noon.”

Although the sun directly overhead was dimmer than a full moon of three years ago, it was still much brighter than the absolute blackness that night had become. Sure, they could carry a torch, but that could only attract the dangers of the night. The roads of Kupa had never been safe, but in these times that was especially true. Even for three rebels who were all competent at battle, it was a needless risk. For that reason, it was of the utmost importance that they make the most of their travels during the day.

The three continued traveling down the remnants of one of the great gravel roadways that once connected Kupa City to much of the human worlds of Zaron. It was overgrown with dead, brown grass and crunched with the frost that froze the land even in the middle of summer. As a gust of wind blew by, Tricia gripped the hood of her cloak, holding it tight against her head.

“Like I said before,” Jimmy told her, “It isn’t that much further.”

“The walls of the city will keep the wind out,” Stan added, “Presuming they’re not all torn down.”

“Doubt it,” Jimmy laughed, “Though I’d say the po--the po--I’d say the potential flames will do a better job of keeping it warm for us.” 

A shiver went down Tricia’s spine. One wasn’t at all from the cold.

“Ah, speaking of,” Jimmy said. He pointed a crutch out towards a glowing spot of the horizon. “There it is.”

“Damn,” Stan said. The tone of his voice was emotionless, unreadable. The way his face seemed hidden by the eternal shadows made it especially hard for Tricia to gauge how he was feeling.

“Must be weird c-c-coming home for the first time in a time like--like this,” Jimmy said.

“It’s not my home,” Stan said in a hollow voice, “Besides, you should say that to Tricia. She’s the one who’s never been.”

Tricia didn’t respond. It was true, she had never been to Kupa City. As a small child, she heard stories about it from her mother. How it was a tall, grand city with all the royalty and elite of Kupa Keep. It was always bustling, with more to do than anyone would have time for. To a little peasant girl in a poor, remote farm village, she always dreamed of one day living there, or at the very least visiting it.

It was where her mother and father were originally from, both born into the upper echelons of the city. It was where they would have always remained, had they not given it all up to run away to keep their firstborn son safe. Ironically, after the decimation of their destitute village, said son came back here. As Tricia slowly came to understand it, however, her brother lived in a very different side of the city than their parents had.

“It’s not my home, either,” she said. 

“And unlike Stan, i-i-it’s better if, as far as the people of Kupa are concerned, it stays that way.”

Tricia let out a grunt laugh under her breath. “Imagine if you’d have told me a few years ago that I’d be more likely to be welcomed into the city as a High Elf citizen than if I used my  _ familial connection _ .”

It wasn’t long before they grew close to the city. As Jimmy had predicted, the great castle walls that surrounded the city were for the most part intact, albeit their great stones full of black char and clear damage dealt to them. The great moat that surrounded it was completely dried up, with bones of aquatic life caked with mud barely visible in the eternal darkness. Nonetheless, there was light emitting from the interior walls of the city. And smoke. Lots of smoke.

As the thick smell of smoke grew stronger, Stan and Jimmy raised the neckline of their capes over their mouth and nose. Tricia did not. Smoke didn’t have the same effect on her as most people.

The drawbridge was down. There was no reason to raise it, given how the moat was drained anyway. Still, the gate itself was closed.

“Let’s hope there’s still someone there to let us in,” Stan said, taking a step on the drawbridge. The wood creaked, more than it probably should.

“There will be,” Jimmy said, following behind Stan, “Kupa City is too proud.” He nodded his head towards the gate. “See, th-there’s someone there.”

Sure enough, a man sat dozed off on a small wooden stool on the other side of the gate becoming more visible the closer they approached. He wore no knight or guard uniform, but he did wear what was clearly a Kupa uniform nonetheless.

“Hey!” Stan yelled, gripping his hands into the latticed gate and shaking it as hard as he could as soon as he reached it. “Wake up!”

The man’s eyes quickly opened as he was jolted awake. He stood up and rubbed his eyes. His expression was far more confused than anything else.

“Who are you all supposed to be?” he asked.

“I’m Stanley Marsh here on behalf of La Resistance,” Stan said, “We need to enter the city.”

The guard laughed from the bottom of his gut and collapsed back down onto his stool. “Yeah right.”

“It’s true!” Tricia insisted. He didn’t pay her any mind.

“C’mon, don’t be an ass.” Stan rolled his eyes. “Just let us in.”

“What do you want from this place,  _ Young Lord Marsh _ ?” he asked in a sarcastic voice, “You know the Marsh family isn’t here anymore.”

Stan lowered his head. “I know.” He took a deep breath and raised his head back up, looking at the guard square in the face. “But I’m not here for them.”

“Obviously. You didn’t come to help when Lord Marsh sacrificed his own life to prevent this city from being  _ completely _ flattened. And--”

“And my mother and sister fled. No one knows where they are or if they even survived. I  _ know _ ,” Stan finished for him, “And to answer your question, I was helping the evacuation of the High Elf City.”

“He gains nothing from lying,” Jimmy added in, “If he was trying to trick you, he’d pick a more believable s-s-story.”

The guard rubbed his temple and let out a long groan. “Fine,” he finally said in an exasperated voice, “I’m not some trained guard or knight meant for this job. You don’t seem like you’re from the Dark Kingdom. Why not?” He stood back up and lowered the lever, opening the gate.

“Thank you,” Tricia said.

“Whatever,” he replied, lowering the gate back down after they all entered, “But I don’t want my neck on the line, so wherever you’re going I’m going to accompany you.”

“Fine by me,” Jimmy said with a smirk. He looked to his two companions. Tricia nodded while Stan gave a passive shrug.

“Who are you two, anyway?” the not-guard asked. He looked directly at Jimmy. 

“I’m Jimmy,” he said, reaching out a hand for the other to shake. 

He hesitantly returned it. He looked down at where their hands met. “You seem familiar.”

“I’m a bard,” he said proudly, “Well,  _ now  _ I’m less focused on the bard part of my adventures, but I still am one. I’ve been around Kupa m-ma-many times, you know. ”

It was true, Jimmy  _ was  _ in fact a bard. But he was also an agent for La Resistance, and a really good one at that. People would often underestimate him due to his stutter and walking with crutches, but he used that to his advantage. He was incredibly sharp and witty, able to figure anyone out while they still thought less of him. He may need crutches to walk, but he was still physically very fit and able to keep up with anyone. Enemies would instantly regret thinking he was a frail man the second he swung a crutch directly against their jaw.

Plus, it was nice to get to know him on these travels. She always did want to get to know the man known as the slyest bard in Zaron and a pleasant conversationalist. While she knew Stan very well from living in the High Elf City for much of their lives together as some of the few humans there, she didn’t know Jimmy nearly as much. Although he had been part of La Resistance for many years and, he wasn’t specifically tied down to the High Elf Kingdom. As a traveling bard, he wasn’t tied to  _ anywhere _ . He would come back every once in a while, but he always seemed to leave as soon as he came.

Then again, she would have preferred none of this ever happened in the first place, even if it meant never getting to know him.

Jimmy continued, “But I’m pretty sure  _ you  _ know  _ me  _ specifically from Red’s tavern.”

The other man’s face fell. “ _ Ah.  _ Yeah. It’s a shame what happened to her.”

“She was a good g-g-gal.” The near universal coy smile and gleam in Jimmy’s eyes were gone, replaced with a solemnity that was rare for the happy go lucky bard. It was almost unsettling.

Looking down at the cracked stone flooring, the stranger nodded. A look on his face made it clear he wasn’t going to dwell on it, and he turned and faced Tricia. “What about you?”

“I’m Tricia,” she said, “I’m a human resident of the High Elf Kingdom. Like Stan. It’s how I joined La Resistance.”

“I see. Well, the world’s gone to shit too much care about elf and human loyalties or passing judgement on some elven terrorist group,” he said with a dark laugh, “I’m Token.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tricia bowed her head down politely.

“Alright,” Stan interjected, “Introductions are nice and all, but like Mr. Token or whatever here said, the world has gone to shit. Let’s get going.” 

“Right,” Tricia agreed.

Token looked at her for a moment. He sighed and grabbed a lit torch from the wall, taking a firm tug to pull it from its rusted holder. He gestured it out, guiding them from the entryway and into the city proper.

“Just so you know,” Tricia hesitantly added, “La Resistance, isn’t a terrorist group or even distinctly elven. We’ve always been trying to free Zaron. Humans and elves alike.”

“My dad used to be a member,” Stan said.

Token’s raised eyebrow of skepticism was lit by the orange torchlight. Without needing to say anything, he merely shrugged and continued on into the open city. Tricia followed behind him, entering Kupa City for the first time.

It was by no means the most damaged place Tricia had visited in the past three years. Still, given that the city was known as the human equivalent of the High Elf City, seeing it in that state sent instant shivers down her spine. Though part of that might have also been caused by the putrid smell that instantly permeated everything.

Although a large number of the buildings still stood, none of them were without damage. Some were completely collapsed and reduced to rubble, while others had holes blown into them or their second floors or roofs fallen in. Luckier ones had burn marks or other mild damages. Less lucky ones were still on fire.

“How are there still fires?” she asked.

“Sieges are common,” Token said, “With magical fire they’ll last a long time, sometimes seemingly intentionally never going out or fully burning the structures down. But also opportunists within the city. Especially towards the wealthy houses.”

“Like the raid on the Wizard,” Stan said.

“Yeah,” Token said, cracking an ironic smirk, “Though I think  _ everyone _ was down with that. I know I was out there.”

They passed a number of residents who ignored them. They were filthy and thin and looked as though they were wandering aimlessly in a daze. Not an unfamiliar state of many people these days. Tricia found herself averting her gaze as she saw a woman lay a dead body in a brown sack bag along the edge of the street.

“It’s what that bastard deserved,” Stan said.

“Not really.” A frown grew across Token’s face. “That asshole got away. If justice was real, he’d have been burned alive in the center of town. Or maybe in his own castle.”

“Speaking of the castle, that’s where we’re going,” Jimmy said.

“The main castle?” Token asked, raising an eyebrow. “Like I implied, people took everything from there you could possibly want. So if you’re wanting to loot--”

“Oh no,” Jimmy shook his head with a smirk, “We definitely don’t want some _ thing _ . Rather, some _ one _ .”

“It’s empty. Most nobles who lived in it either fled or died and no squatter wants to sit around and be mistaken for a straggler. Not even Dame Testaburger will touch it. No, she may have taken over the city, but she knows better than that. If it’s her you’re looking for, she’s chosen a modest more or less still standing building not far from here.”

“Not her,” Stan answered, “The princess.”

“The princess?” Token couldn’t help but break out into laughter. “I thought you were crazy for saying you were the dead Marsh kid, but know I know you’ve lost it.”

“She’s alive,” Stan said as he stepped around a large pile of wood scraps, “She’s not exactly in good shape, but we know she’s alive.”

“Then where the hell has she been through all of this?”

“You’ll see.”

It was clear Token didn’t believe a word Stan said, but he didn’t fight it further as the four continued walking to the other end of the city. The castle was on the far end and given the size of the walled city, it would be a little under an hour to get to the other side.

A few people in the city did give them proper glances. Still, none seemed to want to talk to them. Perhaps they were too visibly outsiders. Tricia may have traded her elegant Elven court dresses for a more practical pair of brown pants and a robin shell blue leather tunic, but it was still clearly Elven in design nonetheless. Stan as always wore his uniform denoting himself as the right hand man of the High Elf King. The people of Kupa may not know where exactly their clothing came from, but compared to the filthy wool and linen clothes even Token wore, they clearly stood out.

Or perhaps it was  _ because  _ they were a group led by Token. He still wore an official Kupa uniform, after all, and guided three strangers through the heart of this ruined city.

“We’ll come back to help them,” Stan said quietly into Tricia’s ear.

“I know,” she said, lowering her head, “It’s just...It’s awful.”

They passed a block that was all lit with purple flames, spreading slowly from building to building. A purple flame that traveled slowly but couldn’t be stopped, not even by the heaviest of rains. People sat near the flames, unable to do anything but watch everything they knew come burning down ever so slowly.

“Kitty!” a little boy wailed out. The sound of the small child made Tricia jump. The sound of a child’s voice felt out of place in this bleak world.

“We can’t get kitty,” the mother held onto her son.

“But kitty is  _ in there _ !” the child resisted against his mother.

The other three in her travels had looks of sympathy on their faces, but they continued to move on. Tricia, however, stopped.

“What’s going on?” she asked, kneeling down to the child and his mother. Her travel companions stopped in their tracks. Token had a look of confusion.

“Kitty’s in there!” he said, nearly inaudible through his wails. Tricia stood up straight. Sure enough, she could hear horrible meowing wails from inside the burning building. Unlike other fires, magical fires produced less toxic smoke. The cat would be trapped until…

“I’ll get him for you,” she told the child.

“Tricia,” Jimmy warned. 

“It’ll be just a minute,” Tricia said as she took off her cloak, letting it fall to the ground.

“Miss, I don’t know where you’re from,” the mother said as she looked up at her with horror, “But that fire might be purple, but it’s  _ real _ .”

Jimmy went forward towards her and reached out his arm from his crutch. “Listen, I want to help them too--”

“Let her go,” Stan said. Tricia grinned. She knew he’d approve--He always had a soft spot for animals.

Jimmy’s arm froze. He put his hand into a light fist and let it fall back down to his side. “Okay, but be careful.”

“I will,” she said, looking back with a smile right before she walked straight into the fire.

Token’s eyes grew large. He ran forward. “Hey wait--!” The child’s mother screamed.

Of course, Tricia was perfectly fine walking through the flames. She was fireproof, after all. Going through fire for her was no different than running through mist or fog would be for anyone else. Running into burning buildings had sort of become her thing during this. Kyle had been finally able to perfect a fireproof outfit for her to go in without worrying about her clothes being reduced to ashes in the process. The only thing she really had to worry about was weakened structures collapsing on her.

Although her eyes wouldn’t burn from smoke nor flames, it was still hard to see through all the fire. She closed her eyes and listened for the meows. It was coming from the upper level. She opened her eyes back up with a sigh. The stairs were on the far end of the room, and she could only hope they were still intact enough for her to ascend them. 

When she reached the stairs, much like the rest of the building, they were in flames. She knew the burnt wood could likely break climbing up them. Still, she would be careful. As long as wood didn’t pierce her whilst falling, it wouldn’t likely be a life-threatening fall by any means. She decided the best method would be going up on her hands and knees.

As she feared, the wood cracked and broke as she made her way up as quickly as possible. Entire slats of the steps fell through, creating large holes. A cracking noise made her fear that the entire staircase foundation of them would crumble. Thankfully, however, she managed her way to the top before that could happen.

The second floor had more visibility than the bottom one. The flames were only starting to reach this level, not yet consuming everything. A single corner in the far side was still relatively untouched by the flames. Even if it weren’t from the meows calling out, she would have guessed that’s where the cat was.

She nearly collapsed through the weakened floorboard but she managed to run over to the cat. It was cowered in a corner. its ears flat on its head in fright. It was clearly young, just passed being a kitten, and its yellow fur was covered in black soot. The most concerning thing was a bright red burn wound covering one of its front legs.

“Poor thing,” she said. When she slowly and carefully approached it, it hissed at her. She couldn’t blame its aggression, it was clearly frightened. “I won’t hurt you. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Thankfully, despite the hissing, it didn’t try to scratch or bite when she picked it up. Rather, it stayed limp in her arms, as if too scared to move. She did her best to hold it in a way where she wouldn’t press against its injured leg, though with how limp it was she wasn’t sure if she was doing a good job.

She looked around the burning room and the completely inflamed staircase. “You’re not fireproof,” she said to the cat, “How are we going to get you out of here?”

Even if the stairs were stable enough for her to go across once more, the lower floor was far too encased with fire for her to take the cat. She considered for a moment putting it inside her fireproof tunic, but she knew that it would unlikely be secure in her non-airtight, form-fitting clothes. Even if she could fit it, it could easily run away. Or flames could still get into it as it wasn’t airtight, burning the cat anyway.

She was going to have to jump out of the window, she realized. It wouldn’t be a risk free jump, but there really wasn’t any other alternative. She groaned. If only she had some fireproof rope. She cursed herself for rejecting Kyle’s offer to use excess fabric for other uses, claiming it shouldn’t all be used up on just her.

She sighed. No time for hindsight, she had to focus on the now. The window panes were fallen in the front of the house. She could hold the cat up above the flames and make a run for it. She could make a run for it without harming the cat. She didn’t have time to worry about the dangers.

She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. “Three...two...one!”

She ran as fast as she could while keeping her arms above her head as she tightly clutched the cat in her hands praying to herself that it wouldn’t escape her grip. In mere seconds she reached the window. With no time to think, she ran through the opening and went airbound.

She had been trained in falling before. Legs first. Bend them, but not lock them. Wrap her arms around the cat, keeping it to her chest as to break the fall for it.

It took less than a second for her to hit the ground.

It was by no means painless, but as she stood up and brushed off her clothes, she could tell she didn’t break anything. The cat struggled in her arms, trying desperately to bolt as far away as it could. It was fine. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Kitty!” the child cried, running to her. Tricia smiled at the child and told him to be careful of the leg as she handed it to him. The cat seemed grateful to be back in the arms of its young owner, meowing loudly without attempting to escape. The mother, on the other hand, looked as if she saw a ghost.

“How the hell did you do that?” Token asked. She hadn’t even noticed  _ his  _ reaction yet.

“I’m fireproof.”

“You’re magic?”

“No,” she said, “I was charmed as a child.”

“Who the hell charmed you?” he asked in disbelief, “Making fireproof clothing is hard enough but theoretically doable. What sort of wizard was able to make a full  _ human being _ fireproof even through magical fire like that?”

Tricia bit her lip. “I was really little. You know.” She shrugged.

She was telling the truth. She  _ was _ really little when it happened to her. He didn’t need to know that she answered the question in a deceptive way as to imply she was too young to know.

“Interesting,” he said. He looked at her long and hard for a minute before turning back towards the mother and son with the cat. The mother still looked skeptical at the group, but the child clutched his cat, sobbing into it. Token leaned down to the boy. 

“Do you mind if I take a look at Kitty’s foot for a second?” he asked in a much softer voice than he used before.

“But--”

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt him. I promise.” The boy nodded and held out his cat. It still didn’t struggle, clearly trusting the young child.

Very carefully, Token held out the leg in a way that would be the least uncomfortable for the cat, even though it yelped out in pain. It very badly burned. Even though the cat was saved, it was a very nasty injury. It had a better chance outside of the fire, of course, but from what Tricia knew about burn wounds, it was very likely to get infected. It needed medicine or an amputation, something that was probably hard to come by in times like these. Especially for a cat. 

After closely looking at it, Token held out his free hand and murmured something under his breath. In an instant, his hand glowed. A bright white light that, unlike the fires of many colors that burned, gave a feeling of warmth and comfort to anyone who looked at it, even further calming the cat in the child’s grip. He brought the warm light from his hand to the cat’s injured leg.

It took a few moments, but gradually the injured leg changed colors. Token was healing it.

He removed his hand, the light disappearing. The child put the cat on the ground. It could stand straight.

It was by no means completely healed. The skin was still bright pink and the cat walked with a limp. But compared to the ghastly burn from before, it was night and day. In a few days, the cat’s leg would likely be healed completely.

“What did you say your name was again?” Stan asked.

“Token,” he said, standing up, “Token of House Black. My family were the best cleric healers in all of Kupa.”

“Amazing,” Tricia said, looking onward as the cat wobbled along.

“I should say the same for you. I was skeptical of you guys at the gate,” he said, “But now I can see that you’re the real deal.”

“Th-That we are,” Jimmy grinned.

“Alright then,” he said, joining back up with the other three, “Let’s go save us a princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally Tweek was going to be part of this, but I struggled to find a way to have him go from the mountain to grouping up with them in Kupa. It seemed like terrible flow having the opening act have him going to the mountain, all of them meeting up, and then going on this trip where I struggled to find a plot reason for him to be there without just passively experiencing it...all without making this seem too crowded with the number of characters . Then I realized that he didn't need to be here and it could be concurrent with chapter one! Yay! Though sorry if you're disappointed that he's not in this part haha. 
> 
> Also I may have looked up medieval city sizes for this. They actually really were often just a mile or so long, making this fictional city actually kind of large. I always figured games and series small cities were for convenience and not caring about scale. Go figure.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For continuity, Token is a year or two apart in age with the others!
> 
> I forgot to post it earlier, but I have a playlist for this fic! Like the last one, a lot of the songs aren't necessarily related on a literal sense, but more just sort of mood music to write to https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3vJ5rlppH8J8o6vTq5zBuu?si=rimirasgSum7x863s5vC7Q

There was less apprehension walking through the city with Token after the cat saving incident. He still had his guard up somewhat, but he seemed less half convinced they were going to try to attack him at any moment. As he said before, he was now convinced they were the “real deal.”

In the same way, Tricia felt like she could trust him more. While the Wizard destroyed much of Kupa’s magic-related culture, the Black family was one notable exception. Their House was known for having generation after generation of magical healers, some of the best in all of Zaron. While the Wizard set out to stomp out magic that was not his own, even he couldn’t help but allow the family to continue their studies and training. They were too invaluable in times of war and peace.

“You know, we haven’t really heard much from here,” Tricia said. She nervously picked at her nails and cuticles, scraping off ash and dirt out from under them.

“Well, the last Dark Kingdom attack was only a few days ago, which helps this,” he said, gesturing to a building nearby that was leveled yet still sparking with a pink fire. “I can’t decide if it’s lucky or unlucky that you just missed it.”

“Probably lucky,” Jimmy said bluntly with an overdramatic shrug, “There isn’t much w-w-w-we can do. There’s just one Tricia. Stan and I don’t have any magic abili--any magic abi--any magic ability.”

“I guess," he answered emotionlessly. He looked at the rubble for a few more moments before turning away.

“Why do you all stay here?” Stan asked, his words as blunt as Jimmy’s. “The High Elf City was evacuated, you know. The Dark Kingdom _hates_ this place, and they’re never going to stop. You’d be better off joining the ones who ran off.”

“Where are we supposed to go?” Token’s grim expression sent shivers down Tricia’s spine. It halted the conversation from going further.

While it was true many did flee the city, he did have a point. The High Elves had an organized resistance to help them, but even still many of the residents were scattered across Zaron. Kupa had a wizard who, when it came down to it, showed his cowardly true colors. Kupa was a particularly hated kingdom, and it was hard to imagine many of the other, also struggling kingdoms had open arms towards Kupa refugees.

Dame Wendy Testaburger was the closest they had to a leader. She was truly doing the best she could, and it was admirable. But when it came down to it, she was a soldier, not a politician. 

“Why don’t you join us then?” Jimmy asked. His sudden, straightforward question surprised her.

“Join you?” Token asked.

“We could use a healer of your abilities,” Stan added, agreeing with Jimmy, “Plus I’m sure it beats sticking around guarding a gate waiting for the day this place is finally destroyed.”

“I…” Token stopped. He bit his lip and brought his hand to his chin. “I don’t even know what exactly you do, and...the people need me here.” 

“Do they?” Stan asked in a hollow voice, gesturing to a group of corpses lined up on the street with only thin brown blankets to cover them up. Certainly not enough to cover the stench. The sound of the crackling fires around them seemed to intensify. 

“Enough. Let’s just keep going,” Tricia said. Stan gave a look to Tricia and nodded.

“W-W-We do quite a lot of things, actually,” Jimmy said, ignoring the tense mood, “Help villages and refugees, help ward off invasions, all the like. Naturally, our end goal is to overthrow the Dark Kingdom altogether.”

“Sounds like a big task,” Token said, looking straight forward and not at any of them. 

“Well,” Tricia said, “We’re hoping the princess might be a key to helping.”

Token raised an eyebrow skeptically at her. His gaze lowered to her hands, visible but unscathed by the burning building she jumped down from, save for a few scratches from the landing. “Then let’s go find her.”

Although the entire city was walled off and, in theory, surrounded by a single castle, the section at the far end that historically housed the royal family stood out. Much of the castle surrounding the city were merely walls with hallways inside connecting one tower to another. Yet this section was much larger, more like a single large building akin to those in Elven territories--albeit the black stone angular architecture in Kupa being a completely different aesthetic. 

There were stories about the grand knights protecting the entrance to the castle. Well trained soldiers set on keeping royalty and nobility safe. Of course, they were all gone now. Some went off to war, others joined Dame Testaburger in the middle of the city, and others merely fled. There was nothing to protect here now. It was clear it was thoroughly looted, with nothing left to steal, no reason to stick around.

“Weird nostalgia,” Stan said as they entered the front entryway. He pulled the stone out of his pocket and fiddled with it in his hand. It was still solid black.

It was clear that the place had once been incredibly grand. Large tapestries on the walls were ripped down for the fabric, paintings slashed, and broken pieces of various objects throughout. Tables and other furniture were also damaged or completely broken--Tricia supposed that anything intact had already been taken.

It was eerie. Of course she had been through quite a few destroyed places, but none felt quite as eerie as this. Much of Zaron had fallen, but nowhere felt quite so emotionally _dead_ as this place. It almost seemed haunted, but not by ghosts. But a symbolic tomb of a civilization that long since been heralded as a grand society, only for that way of life to become part of ancient history.

“How the mighty have fallen,” Jimmy said.

“I bet it was beautiful in its prime,” Tricia said, her gaze falling onto an old portrait of the McCormick family. It was slashed in the middle, right through a very young Princess Kenny.

“If you like effigies of the Wizard,” Token laughed, stepping over a shattered bust of him, “He got rid of the majority of the McCormick presence and actual good art and style once King Stuart died.”

“I did say _in its prime_.”

“True.” Token kicked aside part of the shattered bust as if it were a pebble on a road. He began to go towards the grand staircase, (although less _grand_ with its broken handrails and rubble all along it,) but Jimmy stopped him.

“We have to go this way,” Jimmy nodded his head towards the right, “Unless she’s been moved, she’s in a servant’s tower.”

“I think those have all been raided,” Token said, although he turned around to follow Jimmy’s lead.

“We’ll see,” Jimmy said, although not at all sounding concerned with Token’s statement. Tricia and Stan looked at each other. “Well, come on. It’s not like we can know for sure until we see, r-ri-right?”

“Yeah, come on,” Stan said, averting his gaze from Tricia towards the stone still in his hand. He spun it around in his fingers as he followed along down the right wing of the hall.

The four kept close together, as though there was an instinct to stay near as to not get lost or vulnerable. It was odd, although physically speaking, the rooms of this castle were much taller and wider than many of the rooms in the High Elf Castle, the dark stone, small windows, and overall atmosphere made it seem much more claustrophobic than the soft and inviting one she was used to. She wondered briefly if it would be different if the place wasn’t destroyed but full of residents and workers, illuminated by the sun and candles. She doubted it.

The further they went in, the less windows there were, making the already dark kingdom even darker. Token went to a wall and pulled off one of few torches still present on the wall.

“Can you light it?” he asked Tricia.

She let out a laugh under her breath. “I’m fireproof, but I can’t create fire.” 

“I see,” he said with a sigh. He reached into his pocket and brought out a match. “These are hard to come by, so I was just hoping”

“We have quite a few in our main camps,” Jimmy said.

Token didn’t look at him as he hit the match on the wall to ignite it and lit the torch. The room became more lit by the soft orange glow. 

“Kinda messed up that there’s so much fire around this place, but none of it usable,” Stan added, shoving the stone back into his pocket, “Unless you have a torch that can handle magical fire, which we unfortunately didn’t bring.”

“A lot of things are messed up,” Token sighed, holding out his torch to help light the way. 

“Our offer still stands for you to help us out,” Stan said. Token didn’t respond.

It wasn’t too much further until they reached a point where Jimmy told them all to stop. He pointed to a stone wall. Although it was rounded, it wasn’t much unlike the other stone walls.

“This is it,” he said, putting a hand to the wall, “We just need to get on the other side of--the other side of it.”

“I don’t get it,” Token said, “It’s just a stone wall.”

“Yeah, seems like that bastard built one up to keep her in,” Jimmy said, closely eyeing the stonework up close, “And of course, prevent others from getting to her.”

“Wouldn’t she have starved to death by now, anyway?”

Stan laughed. “Haven’t you ever heard of a cursed princess locked away in a tower before?”

“I--well, fairytales are one thing.”

Stan chuckled a little more and brought his ear to the wall and knocked on it with his fist. He seemed pleased with the apparent hollow sound coming from the other side. He told Jimmy to take a step back as he unsheathed his sword. Jimmy grinned and did as he asked.

“Watch this,” Stan said. He poked the grout in between the stones to find a weak spot. When he did, he shoved it in as hard as he could, impaling the wall. With a twist of his sword, the stones around it fell. Stan jumped out of the way, preventing the stones of the wall from trampling him. 

“Strong sword,” Token said, looking down at the collapsed wall and reaching for his own blades along his belt with his free hand.

“That’s what elves get for having full armies that don’t fear magic,” Stan grinned. When the dust from it settled, the steep spiral staircase on the other side revealed itself.

“I’ll be damned.”

And so the four began their descent up the long spiral staircase. Token led the way followed by Tricia. Stan assisted Jimmy at climbing up with his crutches at the tail end. The way was long, and the windowlessness of the tower made Tricia incredibly grateful that Token grabbed that torch, their only light source. The smell of the flame also distracted from the musty smell and thick dust from no one traversing these stairs in what must have been a long time.

“I’m still amazed you knew about this,” Token said, turning around to stop for a moment for Stan and Jimmy to catch up.

“Of course,” Jimmy said from below, “Like I said, I’ve been to Kupa many times. Checking things out has always b--always been part of my job in La Resistance.”

“I see,” Token said, turning back around, “I...Well, I guess you can say most people in Kupa have been in the dark about a lot, even before this literal darkness came.” He chuckled at his own pun. “Even someone in their military like myself.”

“I bet even Wendy doesn’t know a fraction of what we do,” Stan said, “Sure there have been whispers about us existing, but we managed to keep the secrets of our secret society...well, secret.”

“It is impressive,” Token said with a deep sigh as he began continuing up the stairs. He walked a few more meters in silence. “You know, your offer is really tempting. But...well, you know, I do have connections here. I’m married, and my wife...well, you know.”

“Family is important,” Tricia said, “We wouldn’t ask you to abandon her, especially in a time like this.”

“Of course not,” Token said, “She’s uh...Well, she’s a knight. She was part of Testaburger’s squadron.”

“Oh?” Stan asked.

“So you know,” Token’s tone became more uncertain, “If she came along too...she wouldn’t be useless or anything. You know.”

“We’d love for her to join us,” Tricia said with a smile.

“Yeah, why not?” Jimmy added, “We can use all the manpower we can g-get.”

“Well...we’ll see what she thinks,” Token said, his face out of eyeshot as he kept going forward, “Though...I know she talked about how she thought it was useless trying to stay in this dump of a target.”

“We can work it out,” Stan said, “But first let’s worry about the princess, okay?”

“Naturally.”

It took quite a while to reach the top of the staircase, but eventually they made it and were met by an unassuming wooden door. Unassuming, yet much more intact than many of the other doors in this city.

“Should it be locked?” Token asked.

“I don’t think so. Just be careful,” Jimmy said. 

“Yeah,” Stan said, “It’s...It won’t be pretty. Once we get in, let Tricia and I handle it, okay?”

Token nodded once and reached for the handle. As Jimmy predicted, the doorknob was unlocked. Ever so slowly, he pulled open the door and the four quietly and carefully wandered in. As soon as she entered, Tricia reflexively put a hand over her mouth.

It was as if she had been transported into another dimension. Not in terms of smell, even if there was a stench permeating the room. Yet that was nothing compared to how visually shocking the place was.

On a subjective level, perhaps Tricia would have liked a room like this. It was a very girly room, with bright colors. The bed in the middle was large with beautiful, puffy blankets, albeit thrown about. There were many stuffed animals and dolls about, all of which would have been nice had many of them not been ripped apart or had their porcelain heads beaten in.

“The hell is this?” Token asked.

“Better question is where the hell is she?” Stan asked. He walked forward with hesitation in his step as he looked around. There was no trace of her. Until--

A loud screech could be heard as a figure lunged straight for Stan. He tried to reach for his sword, but it quickly toppled him to the ground, pinning him on his back and causing his hat to fall off his head. He was able to hold his arms out above him, holding the figure’s shoulders and stopping it from lunging at his jugular, although it was a struggle that took all his might.

“Holy shit!” Token cried out, holding the torch out in front of him defensively.

“Well, there she is,” Jimmy answered nonchalantly.

Tricia knew Princess Kenny was cursed, but seeing her in person was another thing entirely. Her skin was green and was of a texture that seemed unnatural, almost as if it was rotting on her. Her hate filled eyes were bloodshot, her iris and pupil a grey color. Only her hair seemed normal, still as golden blonde as stories told, although matted, with her signature two braids incredibly loose. Even her dress, although clearly once a beautifully intricate purple and white gown, was torn and stained, leading Tricia to believe she hadn’t been changed out of it for all the years she was kept in it.

“Dammit, someone _help me!_ ” Stan yelled through gritted teeth. Tricia was snapped out of her almost trancelike shock and ran over. She kicked the princess square in the side, toppling her off of Stan.

Knowing the princess could rebound quickly, Stan stood up as fast as he could with a sword at hand. Princess Kenny lunged for her again, but he knocked her away with the blunt end of his sword. While Stan could easily slay the princess, that wasn’t the goal. Trying to merely incapacitate a mindless monster going for the kill was proving to be much harder.

“Hey!” Jimmy yelled at her. He tossed a stone at her, hitting her square in the head. The cursed princess instantly grew enraged and lunged for him. Stan took the momentary distraction and grabbed her, kneeing his shoulder into her stomach far enough from her unnaturally sharp teeth and forcing her down. Her long, sharp nails clawed at him, ripping at his cloak. Token dropped his torch to the ground and ran to help, aiming to grab her arms. With a grin, Jimmy joined in as well, each managing to take an arm each.

“Tricia, you know what to do!” Stan said, struggling to hold onto the squirming princess’s torso, “Jimmy, Token, make sure Tricia can get to her back!”

“Her back?” Token asked, fighting to pin her left arm down to her side.

Tricia didn’t have time to answer. She approached the princess from behind, stepping on the hem of her dress between her legs to help further keep her secure. Murderous monster or not, the struggling, inhuman screams coming from her couldn’t help but fill her with a level of sympathy. Still, she was going to do what she had to, she thought to herself as she clutched her small blade.

It was hard to work properly with her squirming so much--she didn’t want to accidentally stab her. She tried a few times to bring her blade to the back of her dress, but every time she jerked away. She managed to poke a hole in it, but once again she moved, making it harder for Tricia.

“Goddammit,” Tricia let out. She looked at her blade for a moment and back down at the struggling princess. She let her blade fall to the ground and gripped the back of her dress herself. Using the small hole she made, she ripped it apart, creating a big tear down the middle. She had a yellow shift underneath that was probably once white, but thankfully the lenen was easy for her to tear without a blade’s assistance. She ripped it too, exposing her back.

“Do you see it?” Stan struggled to ask.

“I do,” Tricia nodded, bending back down to pick up her blade.

A latticed symbol, black across the green skin of her back. A symbol she recognized. The exact same type that had been placed under her brother’s tongue so long ago, albeit this one was much, much larger. The memory made her bite her lip.

“Whatever it is you’re planning, I’d do it quick!” Token managed to say.

“Right!” Tricia shook her head, snapping out of it. Without another moment’s hesitation, she lifted her arm above her head and swung it down across the princess’s back, slicing a long cut all across her seal.

The princess’s struggles instantly stopped. Out came a blast of black smoke, filling the entire room. The same sort of black smoke she had once witnessed. Only unlike last time, it didn’t blast her or anyone else in the room away. It only took a few moments for it to clear out the windows. The princess went limp in the others’ grip. Jimmy and Token let go of her arms, and Stan carefully placed her down on the bed on her instantly healed back.

“Is anyone going to explain what the hell just happened?” Token asked, going back to the torch. He lit another match and ignited it once more. He walked over to the bed, the light illuminating the princess. She was still green, but it seemed to be slowly fading, her skin clearing.

“We told you, she was cu-cu-cursed,” Jimmy said.

“But--”

“The Wizard did it to her quite a few years ago,” Tricia explained, sitting on the edge of the bed and wiping off a layer of nervous sweat that formed on her forehead. “She’s magical and was always a threat to him. She was able to hide just _how_ magical she was for a long time, but eventually he found out...around the same time Red was able to reach out to her and tell her just what exactly was going on in Kupa.”

“But why’d he turn her into a monster?” Token asked, sitting beside Tricia.

“There’s a ritual you can perform to seal away one’s magic,” Stan explained, “Though it’s not used that often because, for one you can easily cut it and end it making it be a lousy way to force someone to give up their magic. For another, it often goes wrong and ends up completely corrupting the person it's done to.”

“So the Wizard messed up?” 

“No,” Stan shook his head, “He’s too skilled for that and would have to know she could find anyone to slice it for her. No, this was on purpose. He wanted her out of the way, but can’t kill her or any McCormick on account of a blood oath he made when he became the royal wizard generations ago. Plus, if he was able to parade her around as still alive but just out of sight, it would be easier to use her as a puppet. Corrupting her was completely intentional.”

“That’s sick,” Token shook his head low, “I’ve known he was for a long time, but still.”

“He is,” Tricia agreed, “But we’ve freed her now.”

“Hopefully she’s just what we need,” Stan sighed, sitting down on a chair.

“So she’ll be alright?” Token asked.

“Of course,” Jimmy nodded with a large grin, “Based on past experiences with stuff like this, she shouldn’t take long before waking up. Any second now.”

As if on queue, there was a loud cough. Token jumped up and approached the princess with his torch. She coughed into her fist--her perfectly _human skinned_ fist.

“Your highness?” Token asked.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked, with a sing-songy voice unbefitting to such a blunt question. She lowered her fist and looked up at him with big baby blue eyes, then at the room. “Also, why the hell is it so cold in here? Everything smells like shit.” She stretched her shoulders in a rolling motion and brought her feet to the floor.

“Princess Kenny,” Tricia exclaimed, jumping up to meet her at the head of the bed. She offered out her hand to the princess. Kenny stared at it for a moment but didn’t take it, instead bringing her own hand to her temple.

“Actually, forget those questions,” Kenny shook her head, “None of that matters now, and I don’t really care.” She clenched her fist at her forehead, bunching up tangled locks of golden hair.

“Sorry?” Token asked.

“What I really want to know is, where the _fuck_ is that piece of shit wizard?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support!!! I appreciate all the comments and feedback :D


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaa thank you guys that have drawn fanart!  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CBJI0Ajohv5/  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/B_4o1cQJG3M/  
> https://saomisleeps.tumblr.com/post/621788402838388736/wips-that-will-never-be-finished-rp-doodles
> 
> I don't deserve you guys nor expect anything, but if you so much as think of me when you draw something please send it to me in comments/Twitter/tumblr! 😭 I see some of these so late!!!!

Things were not exactly going well for Grand Wizard Eric Theodore Cartman.

Sure, things didn’t always go great for him, but for the majority of the past centuries, things had been going quite smoothly. He was who raised himself into prominence as the most powerful magical human in the land so many years ago, after all. He was able to weasel his way into the McCormick royal court, gaining their favor and quickly bringing himself to prominence in Kupa. Even back then, it was one of the most powerful kingdoms in Zaron, but _he_ saw to it that it would remain that way and go beyond.

Back in those days, several hundred years ago, magic users were far more common in Kupa. Perhaps magical ability was still decently common among humans as a whole. After all, at the time of Cartman’s birth the Grand Tree was still intact. The purveyor of magic to all elves and humans alike, resting in the High Elf Kingdom still did its job to provide magic to the mere mortals of Zaron.

Of course, by the time Cartman was born, common or not, humans were already slowly beginning to lose their connection to magic. Generation after generation, more and more human children were beginning to be born with increasingly weak connections to magic and eventually more and more children were born without any connection at all. The McCormick dynasty, for instance, was one such family that quickly seemed to consistently have no magical ability at all.

It was for that reason, court Wizards or Mages had become increasingly valuable across Zaron. They were not royalty, nor were their titles inherited, but they were very considered just as high in status. Often military leaders, often heralded as heroes, they were as high as one could be without the inherent blue blood of royalty.

Cartman decided from a young age that that was exactly what he was going to be.

He had a natural head start. He was born with magical abilities. Sure, he was born in a poor farming village that was but a small clearing in the expansive forests that made up Kupa in those days, but he wasn’t going to let that fact stop him. His mother encouraged him, always telling him that he was the most powerful magic user that ever lived. Of course, as a young child with a big ego, he believed her. He just needed everyone else to believe it as well.

Cartman had been counting the days for the instructors of magic to reach his small village. Back in those days, when magic was more the norm in Kupa, there were entire educational programs dedicated to training the next generation of powerful magic users. Unlike positions of nobility, it was based entirely on merit. Whether one was a rich nobel or a poor farmer had no real bearing on the future one could have in that position. Instructors would often meet with young children in Kupa of all social classes, attempting to find the best potential to train, and Cartman couldn’t wait for the day he would be whisked away from the poor farming town and small shack his mother and him shared that was beneath him.

It would be an understatement to say that he was disappointed when the visiting wizard declared that his abilities were plain and simply, too mediocre to warrant having an education in magic.

Initially, he was enraged. Beyond enraged. How dare some nobody who probably couldn’t hold a candle to him claim he was _mediocre_ . He had to be jealous. Just jealous. He knew Cartman was full of unprecedented innate power, and knew that he would easily blow all the other magic users out of the water. He would _still_ blow them out of the water. He didn’t need their stupid magic training. He was a _real_ magic user. He would train himself.

Of course, his tone changed the following year when a different instructor came. One who was more of a wannabe philanthropist, who was interested in finding magical students from poor villages, regardless of whether they were the strongest at magic. Class mobility may have been easier back in those days, before the formal creation of serfdom, but it was still quite hard. So, he saw Cartman, a child of a single mother in a poor farming village, less as a potential for greatness and more of a charity case.

And so, Cartman went with him, never to return to his farming village again. Not that he couldn’t have had he wanted to, but he _didn’t_ want to. It, including his mother, was below him. He was training to be a powerful sorcerer and his past and where he came from was no longer important. He was never the type to look back.

There was a shift in the magic once the Grand Tree fell. Despite many rumors centuries later, Cartman truly didn’t have anything to do with it. Greed had always existed, long before he rose to power. Despite what even some elves later believed, he wasn’t who created anti elven sentiment among humans. There was already a great distrust towards the elven residents of Kupa, even ones who had resided there for many generations. It was becoming increasingly popular for them to emigrate back to the north side of the mountains, towards elven majority territories.

That said, the elven family in his own village moving was probably in large part because of him. Of course, they never knew that he was who vandalized their home in the middle of the night. That he was who burned their crops. Still, it wasn’t a prejudice he had come up with all on his own.

Humans were the ones who lost their powers, while elves continued to have them. It was elven territory that housed the Great Tree. Of course, the logical explanation was coincidental proximity that elves themselves didn’t control. Humans valued expanding knowledge beyond just magic, while elves didn’t. Elves practically worshiped the tree and studied the philosophical side of magic, while humans tended to treat it like a physical tool not unlike a bow and arrow or sword. Entire human populations, such as the Barbarian tribes, rejected the use of magic altogether and over the course of merely a few generations were born entirely without the ability.

But of course, human greed wanted to believe otherwise. They didn’t want to accept that it was their own actions that weakened their connection. They wanted to believe that they were a victim of injustice. Why did elven land get the tree, anyway?

Since they couldn’t have it, they destroyed it.

The shift in magical energy could be felt throughout Zaron. More noticeable, of course, to those with a strong connection to magic, but even the magicless Dwarves and Barbarians were reported to be able to feel the shift in the world. While before, every time one used magic, there seemed to be some sort of pull towards the tree in the distant far off land, the destruction of it ended such a thing.

Of course, since he could still use magic, Cartman didn’t really find himself caring. Good on the humans for taking away the smug elves’ symbol. It’s what they deserved. Perhaps destroying the tree prevented the magic from being concentrated in a single place and instead caused it to spread out through the entirety of Zaron. Spread out, allowing him to take control of more of it. To become magnificent.

“Mediocre,” his teacher said to him.

Cartman kicked the tree. It should have been a simple task. Levitate a stone and smoothly weave it through the thick trees of the forest. Yet he couldn’t. He faltered at keeping it levitating, nearly dropping it to the ground several times. He wasn’t good at control either, hitting the trees and pixies many times. Well, hitting the pixies may have been more intentional than not, but his teacher didn’t need to know that.

“Who needs to fucking levitate a stupid stone, anyway?” he asked.

“How can you control your magic in a battlefield if you can’t control a stone in the forest?” his instructor retorted, “And how can you be expected to control a stone if you can’t even control your emotions?”

Cartman chucked the stone as hard as he could towards a nearby tree, creating a dent in the bark. He didn’t need to be lectured by him.

“That tree is a home to gnomes,” his instructor scolded, walking to the tree with an angry yet contained stride. His hand glowed with a white light as he brought it to the tree. He healed the bark. As it returned to the way it was, he let his hand drop and with a heavy sigh turned to his pupil. “The gnomes who have lived here long before we have. They have so graciously decided to share what we call Kupa with us. We must respect them.”

“Fuck the gnomes,” Cartman rolled his eyes, “Those fucking rats are nothing but in the way.”

“Those ‘ _rats’_ are the most hospitable race around,” he shook his head, more disappointed than angry, “They are who did the intricate craftsmanship on your staff. They are who helped build our civilization, our cities, our villages. They value our forests more than anything, and yet they understood our need for farmland and actively helped us build farming villages.”

Cartman rolled his eyes out of the eyeshot of his instructor. Like he cared. Once he would gain power, driving those _things_ out and leveling the vermin infested forest would be one of the first things he’d do. That was always his plan.

“Of course,” Cartman lied through his teeth, his face still out of his instructor’s vision, “I apologize for the disrespect.”

Despite constantly failing and getting on the last nerves of all the instructors and masters of magic above him, Cartman managed to always narrowly avoid being kicked out. Quite a few would have definitely liked to, too. But still, they were never justified in doing so. He may have had mediocre magic, but he was _just_ mediocre enough to meet the bare minimums. 

“I think if you actually practiced more, you’d likely be among the best,” Heidi told him. Cartman didn’t like to be spoken to like that, but Heidi was probably the only person who could get away with it without a fuss. 

They were sitting on his bed in the hall as many of their peers were outside practicing. They were all housed in a wooden castle-like building that the gnomes constructed for Kupa a few generations ago and acted as both an academy for young potentially talented magic users and as a sort of official organization for the higher ups in magic. For a while at that point, Heidi had noticed that he always remained inside of it alone, and wanted to accompany him. At first it was annoying, but eventually he decided he liked her company.

He genuinely liked Heidi. She was smart, the best magic user in their age group. She was a naturally charming and likable person. On top of that, she was very easy on the eyes. That always helped.

“I don’t need to practice,” Cartman said, crossing his arms definitely.

“ _Everyone_ needs to practice, Eric,” she said, rolling her eyes with a playful laugh as she nudged his shoulder with her own. “You don’t think I got to where I am all on my own, right?”

Cartman gave a vague grunt.

“Come on, I want to _help_ you.”

“I’m not some damn charity,” he scowled, “‘Sides, I thought you were gonna take me to see some people you claim are more important than this stupid wooden castle prison.”

She rolled her eyes again. “I _am_ ,” she said, “And it’s not anything _against_ this place. If anything, Kupa is the best place in Zaron amongst us humans. You know, with how we manage to respect the land, magic, and other creatures? I think before long, the group of people I’m going to introduce you to will be synonymous with Kupa’s people. They just...need people to trust first.” She leaned into him with a playful grin.

Perhaps Heidi would have been right. In those days, Kupa was in fact the most noble and just of the human kingdoms. They were the most diverse, in terms of species as well as accepting people from other human kingdoms. They were vehemently opposed to the destruction of the Great Tree. It was, in fact, for that reason that the High Elves entrusted a surviving branch of the tree with the McCormick family. Perhaps La Resistance _would_ have thrived in Kupa. Perhaps it could have made a treaty with them and the entire history of Zaron would have been forever changed in a positive way.

It was very possibly what could have been. That is, _if_ Heidi didn’t bring Cartman to her meetings. Meetings to the group of people that were the early precursor to La Resistance, even if they hadn’t yet chosen that name. Still, they had secrets. Secrets that they shared to the young pairi. Secrets of the true nature of the fallen tree. The nature of the surviving branch. And most importantly, the great prophecies of the future.

Many of Cartman’s contemporaries in magic never understood how such a mediocre magician managed to woo the King and Queen of Kupa so easily. How he managed to rise in ranks in their courts so quickly. How in a matter of only a few years managed to gain the position of Grand Wizard.

Cartman didn’t _enjoy_ betraying Heidi. He really did like her. Perhaps he even loved her. Nonetheless, he also didn’t beat himself up over his betrayal. He wasn’t one to look backl. He did what he had to to get power. In his case, painting her and her little group as terrorists with a plot to overthrow the kind, just rule of the McCormick family. How the elves were liars who withheld information about The Stick. 

The Stick that he in turn was allowed to wield, albeit with some limitations. Still, even if he wasn’t allowed to use it to wipe out entire kingdoms as he’d like, it granted him power. It granted him the ability to truly call himself the most powerful wizard. It also granted him the ability to extend his lifespan. He did keep that fact a secret attesting his longevity to his own _innate_ power.

The proto La Resistance was the enemy. Elves were the enemy. Magical creatures were the enemy. Only humans were just and righteous. If Kupa wanted to remain a steadfast kingdom, they would be better off expelling all others from their borders.

He fed them that the gnomes and their forest were poisoning the minds of Kupa citizens. The inherent magic of the forest was unhealthy for a human mind. The gnomes knew this and _encouraged_ humans to live there. Kupa should react by casting their oppressors out and leveling the horrific forests. The land would be better suited for more farmland, anyway. Kupa had until that point only been minimally agrarian, which was a waste. Sure, the people of Kupa may not like the sudden shift in employment, but that was alright. Cartman had a new societal system in mind.

Barbarian tribes were particularly horrified by actions carried out by the crown in Kupa. Despite being a warlike people, they were people of honor who were against oppression of those weaker than them. They unified and declared war on Kupa, demanding that the King put an end to the deforestation and apologize to the gnomes.

Cartman never liked Barbarians. Foolish, brudish people who turned their backs on magic. He had long since wanted them out of the picture in human meetings, in human cross-kingdom relations.

“Barbarians are the lowest of the low,” Cartman scoffed to the King, “Can you believe their bullshit? They’re a highland people, and want to tell _us_ that we gotta live in some forest? How can these so-called ‘humans’ side with our gnome oppressors over their own kind? They don’t _deserve_ to be called human. If those pieces of shit love forests so much, they should go live in the forest with the gnomes and leave us _civilized_ human folk alone. Don’t you think?”

The King, who trusted his wizard wholeheartedly, agreed. The other human kingdoms, seeing how much the Grand Wizard shaped Kupa into a run of the mill forest kingdom to a great powerhouse with better crop output than even the most traditional agrarian societies also backed him. They wanted to learn just how Kupa was doing things, and implement their methods into their own kingdoms.

Convincing the McCormick royal family to end the current institution of magic did take a few generations of royalty. The Kupa army was strong from the usage. It was part of their culture. Magic users were heralded as heroes. They were also incredibly skeptical of Cartman. 

“Your highness, I think destroying the forest and limiting it to a sliver among the mountains was a bad idea,” one mage of the Kupa’s court said, “Look how much the forest has been corrupted. It’s almost impossible to traverse now, and--”

“Wrong,” Cartman interrupted, “It was always corrupted, it’s just now our minds are cleared from its bullshit influence so we see that shitstain for what it is. I think _you_ just wanna have our poor Kupa citizens be fucked over by it again.”

It took planting seeds of doubt to turn the current Queen on her mages. Subtle talks about how farmers turning into mages remembered their poor upbringing and probably had no desire to help anyone but their own kind. How many were sympathetic to their enemies. How, to the magicless royals, they were a danger that could overthrow the monarchy with ease. How they would be better off only keeping fellow nobles with magic, but only those with enough power to not be a threat.

Cartman did greatly consider restructuring his own magic institution. He liked the idea of training a generation of magic users to look up to him, to take after him. His own minions of sort. Yet he also remembered the great prophecy told to him and Heidi so long ago. A magically inclined child that was to be born in Kupa and--

No, as much as Cartman wanted his own magical cohort out of vanity, it wasn’t worth it. He was better off preventing that prophecy from ever happening. He’d kill the child before it would even have the slightest chance of being a risk to him. That dumb kid would never have a chance.

He told himself this for hundreds of years.

“Holy shit Scott, could you be any slower?” Cartman barked at his subordinate.

Fuck this whole situation. Fuck that bratty fucking so-called thief who lied to him, who _played_ him. He thought he _dealt_ with all magical children born that year. Killing the Marsh kid and cursing the princess should have been the final nails in that coffin. He thought he even squashed a potential survivor in a shitty serf village he heard whispers about by indirectly causing the elves to destroy several potential villages.

Besides him, fuck that heir of the Dark Kingdom. He thought he ended the line with Betsy’s bratty daughter. How was he to know she had a secret son? One that lived in his own kingdom, in his own _city_ ? Who _worked for him_?

Now the world was turned to shit. Just when he had begun to fully gain the reigns of the Kingdom of Kupa Keep and was about to declare himself the Wizard King, his own people turned on him, driving him out. It’s not like he had many options where to go, the entire world became a hellhole under _those two_. He couldn’t use magic--the Dark Brat saw to that as soon as he took hold of the Stick. Also, why did it have to be so dark all the time? The sun seemed as though it was covered in a constant fog. It was too damn cold. 

“Sorry sir,” Scott called out, attempting to catch up with him. He always spoke in that obnoxious lisp that was grating to Cartman’s ears. Yet still, he was one of few who he convinced to stay loyal to him, carrying all his things on their annoyingly long journey.

“Butters would have kept up.” Scott scowled, but didn’t protest. Instead, they walked on in silence, with only the sound of the howling wind and crunch of the summer frost under their feet as they walked.

He may have failed at stopping the world from going to hell like this, but he still wasn’t going down without a fight. As they always said, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. He swindled his way into the McCormick royalty, he managed to convince the last Queen of the Dark Kingdom to trust him. It wasn’t over yet.

It was still incredibly annoying to travel with Scott. The roads and natural terrain to the Dark Kingdom weren’t exactly easy to traverse and back in the old days people would often travel to it via a quicker and more convenient ship. Unfortunately, in a time like this no one could easily find a ship and crew, and someone with a reputation like Cartman would find it especially hard. So instead, he was stuck going the long and hard way with Scott. He couldn’t wait until he arrived at the Dark Kingdom and could rid himself of his loud breathing for once.

It took many days, but eventually they arrived at the outskirts of the kingdom. The formal kingdom, anyway. Technically they controlled nearly all of Zaron now. Yet still, although all of Zaron was dark, the Dark Kingdom lived up to its name and seemed somehow even darker. It was known for being at a naturally overcast part of Zaron next to a particularly treacherous shoreline, but even still, the dark ambiance within the kingdom became apparent as soon as he reached its borders.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” a voice said. The abruptness of the previously unseen figure standing in perfect posture caused Scott to let out a yelp and leap towards Cartman, clutching onto him. Cartman pushed him off. The voice--a girl--let out a chuckle. She took a step forward and pulled back the hood that obscured most of her head and face.

Despite the darkness, she was mostly visible via a torch she held in one hand, lighting her face well enough. Cartman immediately took notice at how much of an ethereal beauty she was. Not out of some instant romantic attraction to her, but still incredibly and hauntingly noticeable nonetheless. Her flawless skin was ghostly pale, with sharp yet perfect features across her face, framed by black hair she wore down. She was very clearly Dark Kingdom, with a long black dress that wasn't dissimilar to ones he saw the nobility of the kingdom wear in days past, and even had the emblem of it pinned to her bodice. Unlike how he saw Dark Kingdom nobility dress in the past, however, she had a slit up her skirt across her left leg with none of the traditional lower layers underneath, just black stockings visible, ending just above her knee. He presumed it was for mobility without converting to a pair of trousers. A smile grew across her full red lips.

“I _said_ , we’ve been waiting for you,” she said. Her voice was sweet and musical, yet somehow eerie and a bit condescending

“Who’s we?” Cartman asked.

“Well, currently speaking that includes me,” a voice from a figure behind her said, concealed by the darkness. He walked forward towards the torchlight she held, making him visible as well.

He was far more unassuming than she was. A simple, average looking man with dirty blond hair and a nonthreatening disposition. There was nothing about him that screamed that he was from the Dark Kingdom, save the fact he also had the seal of the Dark Kingdom on his chest. Even his dark clothes that fit somewhat loosely on him didn’t scream Dark Kingdom.

“H-How did you expect us?” Scott asked, still trembling. An embarrassment to Cartman.

“Not you,” the woman smiled at him, “Him.” She turned and pointed at Cartman with a long pale finger.

Unlike Scott, Cartman didn’t need to be told how they knew he was coming. Sure, he was expecting them to, but it came as no surprise. The Dark Kingdom had all the magical power in the world at their disposal. They historically had magical prophets. It wasn’t exactly complicated.

“Right,” Cartman said, “That just makes stuff easier. Take me to the Dark Lord, then.”

She narrowed her silvery grey eyes without her smile faltering. “I wouldn’t be ordering me around,” she said. Her companion laughed.

“Whatever,” Cartman rolled his eyes, “I wanna see him. I know that together we--”

“Don’t worry, we’re gonna take you to him,” the male said.

“Okay. Good,” Cartman said, blinking a few times, “C’mon Scott, let’s--”

“He may not come along,” the woman said.

“What?” Cartman asked. As soon as he did, Scott gripped his wrist.

“You’re not going to leave me here, are you Grand Wizard?” he asked, desperation in his voice, “Th-This isn’t safe over here. I have nowhere to go. You gotta tell them to take me with you.”

Cartman began to open his mouth to speak, but before he could let out words, the woman spoke.

“We don’t have time for this,” she said with a tsk. She looked to the ground, and put her free hand before her. Slowly and effortlessly, she levitated a small stone up in the air. She stared at it for a moment, and then with a flick of her wrist she sent it directly to Scott's head. In less than a moment and with an incredible speed it pierced through his skull. Before Cartman could register what happened, Scott’s lifeless body fell to the ground.

“Holy shit,” he said under his breath. Some of the blood that pooled out of Scott’s head reached Cartman’s shoes.

“Let us go now. We don’t want to keep the Dark Lord waiting, do we _Wizard_?” she asked, looking straight at him with the same uncanny smile on her face. She and her partner turned around, heading off without waiting for him.

“Right,” he nodded. He quickly ran to catch up with the other two, leaving Scott and all the things he carried for him behind. He didn’t look back.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I'm updating so regularly, even with writing several chapters ahead.

It was raining in the Dark Kingdom’s capital. A cold rain that at certain times felt hard against Cartman’s skin, as if it was deciding whether it wanted to turn into hail or not. At least the road wasn’t icy, the dark roads and buildings of the city made it hard to see where he was going and avoid obstacles as it was anyway.

The woman led the way with her torch in hand. She wore heels that clinked against the stone pavement, yet had no apparent issue walking across the wet, uneven roadway. Her male companion trailed right behind Cartman, as if to close the end of their three person parade. 

“Please try to keep up, Wizard,” she said, turning her head around only for a brief moment.

Cartman cursed her under his breath. For the longest time, no one would have _ever_ gotten away with speaking to him like that. Pretty or not, if he was still in power in Kupa he’d have instantly reprimanded her, if not worse. But as hard as it was to resist, for once in his life he held his tongue. 

Like it or not, the Dark Kingdom had a monopoly on Zaron. She was a magic user who was in some position of power, even if he didn’t know what or how. She also seemed to be quite proficient in magic, especially given her age. She would have been quite young when the last war with the Dark Kingdom happened and he stripped the Dark Kingdom of its magic. Although she may have been talented when she was young, she went quite a long time without such ability and only had a handful of years since its restoration to learn again. He didn’t really consider the possibility that she was a foreign recruit--she screamed Dark Kingdom through and through.

He shouldn’t mess with her.

The man, on the other hand, proved harder for Cartman to figure out. Much like his first impression, he still seemed quite ordinary and seemed less typical of someone from the Dark Kingdom, leading Cartman to believe that, unlike her, he was quite possibly originally from somewhere else. Also unlike the woman whose presence in general was quite strong, Cartman would forget he was there until he’d hear him mutter under his breath. While she had a strong control of magic, he didn’t show any use of it. He also wasn’t particularly muscular or athletic in a way that would lead Cartman to believe he was a strong warrior. 

Still, given that he worked for a place like the Dark Kingdom, he knew better than to let his guard down. He could be anyone, or _anything_.

“Not much of a nightlife here,” Cartman said, looking around at the dark, unlit buildings. He knew a large percentage of the kingdom was depopulated from the Dark Kingdom War years ago, with very little of the surviving population sticking around. Still, with their current status in Zaron, he’d expect those who fled to return as well as new recruits. 

“Do you think we’re bats?” the woman asked, “That we are nocturnal creatures of the night?”

“Well, I dunno...probably not,” he said, looking on to a black window. Despite the lack of evidence of life on the other side, he still felt an odd feeling at the pit of his stomach. As if he was being watched. “Still, in most kingdoms people--”

“Party in the streets drunkenly through the night?” the man asked. His face was obscured by the darkness, but his tone sounded as though he was smirking.

“I--”

“You have known our Dark Lords and Ladies throughout the years,” the woman said, cutting him off without stopping or turning around, “You should know we are not the sort of society. Parties and drunkenness ruins your mind and body, you know. We avoid that to get our much needed rest.”

He was used to pretentious leaders and diplomats from the Dark Kingdom sharing similar rhetoric against _wastefulness_ and _opulence_ over the years, but usually with a snarky and irate tone to it. Yet despite her words being much like theirs, her tone was not. She spoke with the same hypnotising evenness to her voice. Condescending, yes, but in a very cool, mild mannered way.

Even in the dark, rainy night the castle was impossible to miss. It was at the top of the hill at the end of the road, seeming to shoot up into the sky. While the Kupa Castle was incredibly wide, this one went for height. As the city wasn’t too terribly large, before long they reached the bottom of it.

A guard stood at the tall, pointy metal gate. Upon seeing the woman’s torchlit face, he let her through without a single word. He clearly knew who she was, knew that she was coming. She didn’t acknowledge the guard at all when she passed him, but her companion greeted him with a casual “Good evening.” The guard remained silent.

“Soo,” Cartman said as they began to enter the castle. It had big doors that led into a dark in design yet torch and candle lit grand entryway with a traditional grand staircase. Not _that_ unlike the staircase in his own castle, yet still with that weirdly dark aesthetic he couldn’t stand.

“Yes?” the woman asked, turning around and looking at him with her eerie smile. She immediately turned back around, guiding the trio forward.

“You said people like to get their beauty rest. So uhh, is your Dark Lord…?”

“We wait,” she said.

“Don’t worry too much. _Shit_ , it’s not in the dungeon,” the man added.

“Yes,” she confirmed, “It’s much too crowded right now. We will wait in a guest room.”

Cartman grumbled but didn’t outwardly complain. The room they led him to was pretty typical for a guest room in a castle or palace, albeit, like much else, much more dark in aesthetic. There was a bed they told him he could sleep in, but he didn’t trust them worth anything. He merely sat at the foot of the bed in silence as the odd pair both sat on chairs at the door and watched him.

They sat silent and still, almost like statues. No tapping their feet impatiently, no attempts at idle chatter with either Cartman or each other. Nothing. The man would occasionally mutter things strangely under his breath, while the woman remained utterly silent with only the sound of the rain hitting the windows making noise.

“So uh,” Cartman finally said to them as the mix of boredom and eeriness finally got to him. 

“Yes?” the woman asked with a smile and a glance towards him.

“So uhh, how’s everything going?”

“Going?” she asked, tilting her head.

“You know...In this place. In this kingdom.”

“I don’t believe we are permitted to share such things, nor are you permitted to be privy to it,” she said.

“Whatever,” he frowned, crossing his arms, “But who _are_ you two supposed to be, anyway?” 

“Oh, forgive us for not introducing ourselves earlier,” she said in a mocking tone that pretended to be offended at her own misgiving. “I’m Leslie. This is Thomas.”

“Hello,” Thomas said, giving a slight wave of his hand.

“‘Kay, but like...what’s your guys deal, anyway?” Cartman asked, “Are you guards or--”

“I told you,” Leslie cut him off, “You are not permitted to know such things.”

“Lame,” he frowned. Thomas chuckled under his breath while Leslie didn’t acknowledge him at all. Cartman realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere with these two and decided he was better off waiting in silence after all. 

The hours of waiting were unbearable. The difference between day and night wasn’t too stark in these times, but eventually the black of night was replaced by a grey. He heard some chatter and sounds of footsteps passing by from outside the room, but neither Leslie nor Thomas acknowledged it. They simply waited and waited patiently. That is, until very abruptly Leslie stood up.

“It’s time,” she said.

“Alright,” Thomas said, stretching his arms and shoulders before standing up. He smirked at Cartman. “Come on, Wizard, let’s go.”

“Fucking finally,” he muttered under his breath as he stood up and followed them out of the room and into the hallway. He was exhausted and felt filthy, but more than anything he was looking forward to seeing actual people who mattered instead of these demon twins. They didn’t acknowledge his snide comment as they both led the way.

There were a few people about, of whom Cartman could only presume were servants or other members of the royal court. They gave Cartman snide glances to which he scowled at but refrained from making the comments towards them he would have liked to. 

“This way,” Leslie said as she led them up the grand staircase. As it was before, Thomas remained closely behind him, as if to keep him from slipping off from behind. As if he _could_ run away in the middle of a castle, he thought to himself.

Leslie led them to two large guarded doors that were opened for her, much like the castle gate, without needing to say a word. The throne room. Cartman knew that the Dark Kingdom had one, but he always heard that it was generally unused. That sort of thing wasn’t supposed to be their style, and it was created centuries ago more to mimic surrounding nations though its use quickly fell out of favor. He supposed the current administration decided to change that sentiment. 

At the end of the hall were two grand, dark stone chairs seating two figures. Of course, they were not the only two in the room--there were other people about, including soldiers and a distinct figure on the side of one of the chairs. The chair to the left sat a woman Cartman only vaguely recognized. He did know her father back in the day, before his death in battle, but Bebe took far more after her mother. 

He heard talks of her, even if he didn’t care about her much. She was quite the socialite in Kupa. Not superbly high in status, but known for her charms and charisma, as well as her pretty face and long golden hair. Cartman supposed it made sense for someone like her to turn traitor on Kupa. Although under Dark Kingdom law, one could not be married into a royal title, it didn’t stop her from being treated and presented like a queen nonetheless in her grand throne and flowy purple dress.

He rolled his eyes. As much as he didn’t care for Betsy, the last Dark Lady, he was amused at how much she would have disapproved, if she were still alive, of Bebe and the spectacle being made of her.

Next to her sat, of course, the Dark Lord himself. That weak, insufferable, clumsy, _ordinary_ young man that tripped over his own shoes when he worked for Cartman. He was annoying and weak, and Cartman banished him without a second thought. He was just a nobody back then. Definitely not someone he would suspect of being a surviving heir to the Dark Throne.

But now it was clear he was a somebody. He wore the large, spiked crown of the Dark Throne atop his head and clutched the Stick of Truth in his hand. Gone was the ordinary, weak boy he once knew, replaced by a cocky and arrogant leader who looked down on Cartman with amused contemptment. 

But he still wasn’t the biggest somebody in the room.

Clyde knew this. He probably knew this as long as he knew the other person. Perhaps a few others in his royal court also knew it. Probably not Bebe, but some of his advisors, especially ones from his mother’s or grandmother’s old court. La Resistance knew it.

But he highly doubted that Craig, even still, knew remotely how important he was.

He stood silently to the side of the seat of Clyde’s throne. Yet still, despite his far away expression and way he stood in the shadows, he had a much stronger innate presence than Clyde did.

Cartman recognized him instantly as that petty thief _Feldspar_ that tried to kill him. His skin was a few shades paler than before, although was common for most people in these dark times without a baking sun over head. His hair was also slightly better kept. Other than that, it was undoubtedly the same person. Afterall, his face was one that was hard to forget. He was decently tall with strong, incredibly handsome features yet without the cockiness that usually came with it. Even his unspectacular outfit wasn’t that different from what he wore as a thief, save for perhaps being a few shades darker and with a Dark Kingdom emblem. And yet Clyde, even with his large throne, overbearing crown, and self assured expression, seemed incredibly average and plain next to his mage.

Cartman studied him some more. He noticed that in his hand, he clutched a long staff with a glowing purple orb at the top. Purple seemed to be his color, with a matching stone pendant around his mask, and sharp purple eyes.

Cartman blinked. He wasn’t one to really care that much about eye color, but he definitely didn’t recall him having bright purple eyes. He felt like he would have remembered such a striking shade as that.

Whatever, that didn’t matter. He shouldn’t get distracted with the mage’s appearance. 

Still, the dark purple around him didn’t seem just like some aesthetic choice. More like it was an aura encasing him. Encompassing him.

Craig’s purple eyes met Cartman’s for a brief second. The mage immediately broke away, staring off to the distance.

“Hello, Wizard,” a voice snapped Cartman back into reality.

Clyde’s voice was more confident than it was the brief period he worked directly for Cartman. Yet it still wasn’t impressive. It lacked the strength and confidence of his mother or grandmother. 

Cartman smirked. He could walk all over him. No wonder Betsy hid him away.

“Your highness, Dark Lord of the Dark Kingdom,” Cartman bowed overdramatically. His voice came across as a bit sarcastic, but he didn’t regret it.

“Leslie, Thomas,” Clyde ignored his bow and greeted the two that escorted him, “Thank you for bringing him to me. You’ve served me well.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Leslie said with a wide grin as the two bowed.

“You may leave us.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she said again. Leslie and Thomas briefly looked at each other before turning away.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” Bebe laughed. A theatrical laugh, as if she had been practicing her evil queen laugh. Cartman wanted to roll his eyes, but did so internally instead. She was still nobody--just a pretty face to accompany Clyde. A nonissue.

“If you could leave us too,” Clyde said to her. His voice was soft and polite, yet she still had a look of shock and betrayal on her face towards his words.

“But I--”

“This could get messy,” he told her, “I think it’s better you stay out of it.”

“Alright,” she agreed, though with a disapproving frown still on her face. She raised herself from her throne chair and was escorted by a soldier out of the throne room. The door let out a large slamming noise behind her.

“Do I even need to ask why you’ve come here?” Clyde asked, his narrowed brown eyes piercing into Cartman.

“You can,” Cartman frowned, “But anyway, I wanted to come here to--”

“You’re powerless, your people ran you out, and you’re hoping we’ll welcome you with open arms,” Clyde smirked as he crossed his arms.

“You should know, your mother and I had an alliance and--”

“You betrayed her. And, as I have found out not too long ago, you killed my sister.” Clyde’s smile faded. 

“Yeah, yeah, and your mage there tried to murder me and then when I so graciously spared him betrayed the fuck out of me. So I think we’re even on that front,” Cartman said. He briefly averted his gaze to said mage. His already furrowed brows furrowed slightly more, but other than that Craig gave no reaction to Cartman’s words.

But why?

He knew he lacked self awareness of his position, but even still _why_? Why was someone as powerful as him just a silent pawn kept in the Dark Lord’s shadows? Why did he act as his puppet, carrying out his commands? 

And why did Clyde use him in such a way? That wasn’t how the prophecy went. How _any_ prophecy went. That obviously wasn’t the role he was supposed to play in La Resistance’s plan, but it was also incredibly contrary to what Dark Lady Betsy told him oh so long ago. It was possible Betsy was lying, but if she was going to be honest about parts of it, there was no reason why she should have lied about that specific detail. 

“Say you’re telling the truth,” Clyde slouched in his throne, “What good could you possibly even be to us? Your source of magic was this thing right here.” He lifted up the Stick. “But now I have it, and you have _no_ magic.”

“Okay, sure,” Cartman allowed, pacing in a small circle at the foot of the throne. “Fine. You wiped my power. I’ll give you that.” He stopped his pacing and paused for a moment. “But you don’t have the experience, do you?”

“Experience?” Clyde rolled his eyes.

“Yes _experience_ ,” Cartman said, his tone growing irritated, “I’ve lived hundreds of years. Hundreds of years of using the damn Stick. Hundreds of years of seeing Zaron change, learning just how all the pieces in this place go together. I kept things going hundreds of years, right? I’m invaluable. I can train you.”

“Train us?” It was the first time Craig spoke. His voice was calm and collected, yet genuinely stupefied. He turned slightly from where he had stared off into the distance towards Cartman.

“Yeah,” Cartman replied, his voice sounding more uncertain than he intended, “I-I could specifically train you, too. I mean given your--”

“You tried to kill me.”

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah and we’ve been over that. I did, but you also tried to--”

“How many families were ripped apart? How many young lives were ended in your attempts to kill _me_ ?” His eyes narrowed, but were not of the same anger and cockiness that came from Clyde or even the Leslie girl. His eyes seemed _tired_.

“I-I don’t know.”

“You could have trained any number of those children you murdered. But now you want to _train me._ ” His voice remained even, but Cartman noticed how tightly he clutched his staff until his knuckles turned white. His free hand began shaking and an aura seemed to grow around him, as if something was building up inside of him.

“Craig, _enough_ ,” Clyde scolded.

Craig squeezed both fists then relaxed them with a sharp exhale. “Right,” he replied. The aura that seemed to build up faded.

Cartman raised an eyebrow. Why did he listen to Clyde ordering him around like that? 

“Craig is right, though,” Clyde continued, “You’ve done everything in your power for hundreds of years to _stop_ us. You’ve killed, you’ve betrayed. I don’t really see why we should trust you. My Dark Mage here tried to kill you for actions you knowingly did as an adult. You, on the other hand, tried to do everything you could to prevent him from existing.”

Cartman looked long and hard at Craig. It was true. He did try to prevent him from ever existing to not fulfil any prophecy. Based on La Resistance’s prophecy and not the Dark Kingdom one, but even still. It was a near obsession of his. He practically crippled Kupa’s armies and resources in the process, all to stop him. But...

“Probably the better option for him,” Cartman said, his gaze still locked on Craig.

“Excuse me?” Craig asked. He wasn’t angry or offended. It was a question out of genuine confusion.

Good.

“You know, compared to what the Dark Kingdom has planned for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Craig asked, cautiously taking a step forward. Clyde’s eyes narrowed, but he let Cartman continue. He seemed interested as to what he had to say.

“How much do you _actually_ know about the Dark Kingdom’s prophecy?” Cartman asked, “Has your little friend there told you exactly what it entails for you?”

Craig gave a quick glance to Clyde and back to Cartman. “I--”

Suddenly and as if on queue, the throne room doors swung wide open. The clicking of Leslie’s heels against the floor echoed through the room as she made her way to Clyde with great haste.

“Leslie?” Clyde asked. He seemed skeptical of her barging in, but wasn’t quick to dismiss her sudden interruption like Cartman would have been.

“There is news,” she announced. She gave a sideways glance to Cartman. “Of Kupa.”

“What about Kupa?”

“Some rebels have been spotted,” she continued in her sweet, sing-songy voice, “Heading for the main castle.” She gave a glance to Cartman once more. There was a smile on her face, not that unlike the unsettling smiles she always wore. Only, for the first time it went all the way to her eyes.

A feeling of fear unlike Cartman felt before filled his entire body.

“A girl,” she continued slowly and carefully, not taking her eyes off Cartman, “They said she jumped through fire unscathed.”

Cartman didn’t need to see Craig to tell that the aura he sensed before had grown tenfold. Of course, he _could_ see it. Like a purple smoke radiating from his being, it filled the entire room.

 _“Tricia.”_ A single name escaped Craig’s lips.

“Thank you, Leslie. You may go,” Clyde said. He turned to Cartman. “Now, now. What have you done?”

“What? Nothing! I haven’t been there since--”

“I think I know how it is,” Clyde grinned, “You came here as a diversion while La Resistance raids Kupa, right?”

“What?”

“But you should have been smarter than to use Craig’s precious little sister.”

“What sister?” Cartman asked, “I have no idea what the fuck any of you are talking--”

“What have you done with Tricia? _”_ Craig asked, ever so slowly approaching him. His voice was still even, but it felt more hollow. His purple eyes seemed to glow, his gaze no longer distant. It was intense and piercing directly into Cartman’s soul.

“I don’t even know who that is!” Cartman took a few steps back, raising his arms defensively.

“Liar,” Clyde scoffed, “I always knew that all you ever do is lie, but you should still know better than to try and lie your way out of this.”

“Oh _come on_ ,” Cartman rolled his eyes. He turned to Craig. “Listen, I know you shouldn’t trust me and all that, but I was telling you the truth. This Clyde guy--he’s keeping you in the dark about a lot of shit, you know. He’s really--”

“What are you planning with Tricia?” Craig asked, cutting him off. Cartman looked at his intense eyes. They were growing...damp?

“I--Nothing!”

“You’re lying.” The same aura was building within him again, only this time stronger than before. His hands started trembling and the purple glow seemed to emit from him. He was getting angry. “You’re using my sister against me. You’re putting her in danger.”

This wasn’t good. Having him of all people angry was the last thing he needed out of this. Even if he really, genuinely had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

“Believe me. I truly, honestly had no fucking clue you had a sister. I’m also the last fucking person La Resistance would try to recruit. Listen, I’ll fucking help you find her or whatever you want. But for fuck’s sake, listen to me for two seconds! You think _I’m_ using your sister? Don’t you know that Clyde’s going to--”

“Kill him,” Clyde cut Cartman off. 

“ _What_?” Cartman gasped. He took a few steps backwards before turning around to the door. 

“He’s a compulsive liar who has been too much of a shitstain on Zaron for far, _far_ too long,” Clyde continued, “And now he wants to bring poor Tricia into this? I think it’s time for you to get rid of him.”

Craig’s eyes narrowed into thin lines. “Gladly.” He didn’t run after him. He took his time, slowly taking each step towards the fleeing wizard. The haze he created permeated the entire room.

The door was locked from the inside. He pulled and pulled on the handles but they wouldn’t budge. As the mage became within arm’s reach, he felt his body give up. There was no running away from this.

“Craig, listen, you’re making a mistake!”

Craig’s free hand raised up, his palm outstretched towards his prey.

“I get that a lot.”

\--- 

\--

-

_“Eric!” Heidi’s voice called out as she ran to him. Her young face shone brilliantly in the forest meadow by their academy. Her favorite meadow._

_“Heidi?”_

_“Let’s go!” she laughed, pulling him along, “I want to help you with something! You’ll let me for once, right?”_

_“Help me?”_

_She laughed, but continued pulling him along. “You never listen, you know! And I know you’ll say you don’t need to. But if you don’t listen to others, how can you expect them to listen to you? No matter how powerful you get, if you don’t learn kindness and compassion for others, it’ll catch up to you one day.”_

_“Sounds fake,” Cartman huffed, pulling them to a stop._

_She sighed, a bit disappointed in his response._

_“It’s_ not _fake,” she said, letting go of his hand, “I just hope you realize it before it’s too late.”_  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~And another one bites the dust~
> 
> BUT ALSO thank you so much for 1300 kudos on The Thief! And thank you for your continued support on this one! I appreciate each and every comment 😭❤️


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was going to be one chapter was split into two due to length. 
> 
> Princess Kenny is a girl because Princess Kenny, Kenny McCormick's oc, is. As I've said before, I largely view characters in this as the canon characters' LARP ocs more than literally being the South Park characters. So I think of her largely as the character our orange parka boy was going for while he was playing as her. So...yeah, take that as you will.

_ “How come Craig’s changed so much?” Tricia asked. She was sprawled out on the dirt floor of their small thachet house. She was given the job of peeling the skin off the onions as her mother prepared the fire for the soup.The onion harvest was quite good this year, leaving some that would be left for the farmers themselves. In normal years, onions were taken by knights to the large cities with none left behind. Her family’s plot specifically had an even bigger surplus. So much so that her father and brother were out delivering some to an elderly neighbor. _

_ “Craig? He’s just becoming a teenager,” her mother said as she added more kindling to the fire. _

_ “No,” Tricia shook her head as she picked up another onion, “I don’t mean recently.” _

_ “Then I’m not sure I know what you mean, dear.” _

_ “I mean,” she started to say as she tore off the layer of pinkish-red onion skin, “He...I feel like he used to be really different when I was little. I remember he used to be fun and would play with me. He’d...” She trailed off. _

_ “Everyone grows up. We mature,” she said, stirring the broth. _

_ “But.” Tricia dropped the onion to her lap. “It’s...I remember when I was little, he’d…” She fiddled with the onion on her lap. “Make flowers grow for me. Out of thin air.” _

_ Her mother nearly dropped the ladle. That action was enough for her. _

_ “He used magic...Didn’t he?” Tricia asked. _

_ Her mother didn’t respond to Tricia’s question at first. She stirred for a few moments, as if thinking about what she wanted to say. Finally she spoke. “We thought you were too young to remember that.” _

_ “I do, though,” Tricia said, letting out a sigh, “I mean, I thought I was making it up in my head but...I just...It  _ seems  _ like a real memory. He was happy and energetic and using... _ magic _. He’d show it off to me, making me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone, including you. But then...he stopped. And it was like...a grey cloud formed over him that hasn’t ever gone away.” _

_ Her mother set the spoon aside and walked over to her daughter, sitting down on a plain wooden stool beside her. She inhaled sharply and placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.  _

_ “I guess you deserve to know the truth,” she said, “You’re not remembering wrong. Yes...he could use magic. Very well, in fact. Your brother is...Craig is powerful.  _ Too _ powerful for his own good.” _

_ “Is it dangerous?” Tricia asked, “The magic?”  _

_ “It can be,” she replied, “Not that you nor anyone else should be scared him.” _

_ “I’m not!” There was no way Craig  _ himself _ could ever be dangerous. Annoying and grumpy, maybe. But not dangerous. _

_ She laughed softly. “That’s good. But…” Her smile faded. “Still, it  _ can  _ be dangerous. To others, sure. But more than anything, to himself.” _

_ “Is that why he changed so much?” _

_ “Well…” Her hand left Tricia’s shoulder and instead clutched the orange pendant around her neck. Tricia noticed her mother always did that when she was nervous or thinking deeply. “We...suppressed it.” _

_ “What?” She looked up at her mother. _

_ “Something happened and we...It was decided it would be best to use a ritual to suppress his magic. It worked. He can’t use it anymore. But...Well, at first we thought he was so downtrodden because of stress. But now…” _

_ “Now?” Tricia’s eyes widened. _

_ “No, I shouldn’t speculate,” she said, shaking her head. She stood up to go back to the pot as it began to bubble up, threatening to boil over. “I’m saying too much. And regardless, he is how he is now. In another world, he could have been taught control of his power. But the fact is, we live in Kupa. What we did was the best we  _ could  _ do for him here.” _

_ “Then why don’t we move to another kingdom?” Tricia asked, “I heard from a traveler in the inn that in other places, magic users are allowed to do what they want. We could run away. Get him a teacher.” _

_ She laughed under her breath. “It’s not that easy. Believe me, I’d do anything to protect  _ both  _ of my children. But…” she trailed off. “With him...he’s not like most magic users. Even in a kingdom that accepts them…” _

_ “They’d take advantage of him?” Tricia finished for her. _

_ “Maybe,” she admitted as she began to stir the pot once more, “I don’t know. But I  _ do  _ know that here in this little village--for the time being, anyway--he can be safe.  _ We _ can be safe.” _

_ “Well, that’s fine by me,” she said, bringing her attention back to the onions “Don’t tell him I said this, but as much as I fight with him--As much as he can be a real pain. Well, y’know. I want him safe.” _

_ Her mother gave a crooked grin. “And I know he probably would say the same about you.” _

_ Tricia chewed at her bottom lip as she contemplated her mother’s words. “I’ve decided, then.” She stood up on her bare feet and looked her mother in the eyes. “I always said I wanted to leave this place, yeah? I’m going to find a place that will accept our family and let us live as our true selves. Let Craig be himself.” _

_ She chuckled. “Someone with your drive? If anyone can do it, you can.” _

_ \--- _

“So I’m out for a while and the world goes to shit.”

“ _ While _ you were out,” Stan corrected, “I wouldn’t go as far as to imply it was  _ because _ you were out.”

“Well, you can’t  _ prove _ that I wouldn’t have stopped it,” Princess Kenny said with a scowl as she adjusted her hair in her hand mirror. She sighed and placed it down. She flicked her wrist out to summon a brush. The pearly, horsehair flew across the room, nearly hitting Stan, but she was able to catch it in her grip. He let out a yelp, but she ignored him and began brushing her golden, yet incredibly tangled, blonde hair.

“You also can’t  _ prove _ that things wouldn’t have just been worse!” Stan rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall with crossed arms. 

While the princess was every bit as beautiful as paintings and word of mouth portrayed her, there was another thing equally accurate about her reputation--her mouth. It wasn’t that she lacked intelligence--as a Princess of Kupa, she was highly educated and well read. Yet regardless of education, she had a vulgar and crass way of speaking, unbefitting to a lady of her high status.

Stan, on the contrary, was an incredibly “by the books” sort of person. He was the type to bow when needed and follow orders regardless of his personal convictions towards them. He was incredibly loyal to his king--High Elf King Kyle, that is--and seemed to worship the ground he stepped on. Kyle was a very proper king who withheld the values and manners of High Elf Society. 

Needless to say, Stan and the princess didn’t hit it off as children together in high class Kupa society. Nor did they upon this reunion.

“I’m just amazed you’re actually alive,” Token said, “Uh...your highness.”

Kenny placed the brush on her lap and looked up at him. “I’ve seen you before,” she said. She turned and pointed at Jimmy. “And him. He’s been around, too.”

“Yes, your highness,” Token said with a slight bowing of his head, “I am a cleric who gladly served this kingdom on your behalf. I have proudly visited your court many times.”

“I see,” she said uninterestedly. She began brushing her hair again. “Still, can’t believe you guys butchered my dress like that.”

“I know, we shoulda just kept you undead.” Stan rolled his eyes.

She frowned. “Hey, just sayin’! Don’t see why you had to rip it up.”

“I’m sorry, your highness,” Tricia said, “But if it makes you feel better, it was already really stained and damaged from the years you were in it.”

“Don’t  _ apologize  _ to her,” Stan said, “She should be grateful you lugged around a replacement for her.”

The mention of the dress triggered an immediate glimmer in Tricia’s eyes. “The replacement dress that  _ I _ picked out!” she gushed to Kenny, completely ignoring Stan’s tone, “I heard you liked Elven fashion and hate trousers, so I picked a big, flowy skirt that you can easily run around in. We didn’t have any royal purple fabric, even though I heard it’s your favorite color, but this magenta was the closest we could come by. I hope it still works.”

Kenny looked down and picked at the fabric of her skirt for a moment. She looked back up at Tricia. “I haven’t seen you before,” she stated plainly.

“I’m Patricia,” she bowed, “But everyone’s always called me Tricia. I’m like Stan, a human raised by elves.”

“I see,” she said, slowly looking at her from head to toe, analyzing her like she was determining the worth of a piece of art. She looked back at Tricia’s face and blinked her baby blue eyes a few times. “How’d you end up with elves?”

“I uh--”

“It’s a long story for another t-t-time,” Jimmy interrupted.

“Whatever,” Kenny frowned, putting her attention back in finalizing her hair. Even as tangled as her hair had been, her elegant brush easily ran through it, detangling it into perfect wavy golden locks. Her brushing slowed until eventually her hands froze completely. “But um...Thanks, Tricia. The dress  _ is  _ nice.”

Tricia felt her face flush hot. She opened her mouth to speak, but words didn’t come out. Kenny didn’t seem to notice. She stroked the brush through her hair one more time and placed the brush to the side again and began to absentmindedly run her fingers through her hair.

“Karen...Is she…?”

“She’s fine,” Jimmy assured her. Kenny closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. “Her and her hu... _ husband _ have accepted the Dark Kingdom’s rule. It’s not the b-b-best option, but they’re alive and fine for now.”

“Good,” Kenny replied, opening her eyes back up. “And Butters?”

Tricia and Stan shot each other a look.

“He...He was going to flee with the Wizard...Last I heard, anyway,” Jimmy said.

“That fucking  _ asshole _ ,” Kenny said through clenched teeth, clutching the fabric of her skirt into her fists tightly. “He has always taken advantage of Butters just to hurt me. Don’t believe for a  _ second _ Butters  _ wants _ to listen to that dickhead. He knows he has to follow that prick’s orders--that’s the only reason he’s been allowed to stay my paladin.”

“Do you remember  _ anything _ from your time out?” Stan asked as he walked over to Kenny, his voice softer than before.

“No,” she shook her head, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as her hands loosened.

“Well, I heard he always protected you,” Stan sat down on the bed next to her, “And that he was the one person you didn’t attack.”

Kenny gave a light smile and slowly opened her eyes back up. “Sounds about right.” She took a deep breath and stood up. “I know we have a lot going’ on with the Dark Kingdom and shit, but if-- _ when  _ we find him, I want him to join us no questions asked, okay? I trust that boy with my life.” Her grin grew more mischievous. “ _ Plus _ , you probably want to get on the good side of the future King of Kupa, right?”

“O-Of course,” Tricia nodded, a little too urgently.

“Good,” Kenny said, winking at Tricia. With that, she raised her arm out and with her bare hand summoned a wand to her. A colorful thing that blended in with the aesthetic of the bedroom. She tied it into and concealed it with her yellow sash around her waist before picking up a bright pink bow and arrow set that had been leaning against a wall and tied them to her back. She then picked up a dark purple shawl and began to wrap it around her face and hair. “For now, I think it’d be smart to let people still think I’m dead.”

“Did you want to meet Wend--Dame Testaburger?” Token asked, “She might want to know that you’re alive.”

“No,” Kenny shook her head as she picked up a few bracelets that had been lying around and adjusted them on her wrist, “I trust her.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of here,” Stan said, standing up and heading towards the door.

“To…?” Kenny asked.

Stan paused. He reached into his pocket and fished out the stone. It was still black. He sighed and pushed it back in. “For now, we’re going to round up one more person joining us.” He looked to Token.

Token blinked in confusion for a few moments before having a realization. “Oh! Yes, my wife Nicole. We should get her.”

“Alright,” Kenny said, further adjusting her coverings in the large vanity. She picked up her crown, a round solid gold band. She looked at it for a moment. She put it back down and turned away. “Let’s get out of here. I’m sick of this room.”

With the princess in the lead, they then began to make their way down the tower. For someone who didn’t exercise or traverse stairs for years, Kenny led the way with great speed down the tower.

“Holy shit, you really weren’t kidding when you said they ransacked the place,” she said as they reached the bottom into the main hallway. She walked over the stones of the fallen wall that covered the entrance and gazed around at the place. She picked up a shattered piece of porcelain on the ground and analyzed it.

“Yeah, yeah, but if you want to avoid being recognized, we probably shouldn’t stick around here,” Stan said.

“Right,” she agreed, letting it drop to the floor. She grabbed an unlit torch on the wall that Token rushed to light for her. After he did, she handed it off to Stan, expecting him to carry it for her. He groaned, but complied.

Kenny gasped when they exited into the city proper. Although her mouth was covered by cloth, she still brought her hand to cover it. Tricia couldn’t help but feel a wave of sympathy towards her. Kenny’s kingdom was completely ransacked, after all. Tricia may not have ever seen the city before all of this, but she knew the buildings were not leveled or on fire back then. She couldn’t imagine what this must be like for Kenny to wake up to.

“Yeah,” Jimmy said, putting a hand on Kenny’s shoulder.

“None of us know where you live,” Stan said to Token, ignoring the mood completely, “So we’ll leave it to you to lead the way.”

“Right,” Token nodded, though his eyes were locked on Kenny. He shook his head as if to snap himself out of a deep thought. He took the torch from Stan and led the way.

“Is it far?” Tricia asked, “It’s going to get dark soon.”

“ _ Get _ dark?” Kenny asked, “Isn’t it the middle of the night? How much fucking darker can it get?”

“Welcome to the current year,” Stan shrugged, “This is how summer afternoons are now.” Kenny didn’t respond, but pulled at her shawl.

“No, it’s not too far,” Token shook his head, “But...I think we should stop somewhere else first.”

“I don’t know about that,” Stan said, “Like Tricia said, it’s getting da--”

“Don’t worry, it’s on the way.”

Stan sighed. “Fine,” he relented, “But let’s make it quick.”

They walked towards what appeared to be a large inferno of flames. Not magical flames, but your standard smoke-filled orange flames. Of course, smoke didn’t affect Tricia, but she could still feel it hit her face.

“ _ Towards _ fire?” Kenny asked skeptically, pinching her nose over the cloth.

“Yes, but...you’ll see,” Token assured her. Her skepticism didn’t falter, but she didn’t press him further.

As they approached the large fire, Tricia noticed that quite a few people were around it. Not to flee it. Nor were they staring at it in horror, implying that it were their own buildings burning down. As they came closer, she saw that people were throwing in bits of wood and hay. They were trying to  _ maintain _ the fire.

“What is this?” Stan asked, footsteps slowing the closer he got.

“I thought you’d appreciate it,” Token said.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s a memorial for your father.”

Stan’s face turned pale.

Once Token said it was a memorial, that fact became abundantly clear. Through the way the fire was intentional and kept burning. The way people gathered around it and paid respects. The latter reminded Tricia of the great temple back in the High Elf City. As they finally reached it, Token stood back and allowed Stan to lead the way towards it. 

At the foot of the burning bonfire memorial was a painting. A family portrait. Lord and Lady Marsh with his late elderly father Marvin Marsh and their two young children. Shelly, even as a child in a painting, looked just as irked off as rumors said she always was. Stan couldn’t have been older than one or two years old and pulled on his mother’s skirt from where he sat at her feet. It was a painting of a normal high class family. A healthy enough family, One that had all the advantages Kupa had to offer. A family that should have easily thrived in this land.

Stan dropped to his knees in front of it. A few people looked at him with brief curiosity as he did so, but they carried on their way and left. Stan was so young in the painting. It would be impossible to recognize him just by looking at it.

“They decided to use that painting because it was the only full family portrait,” Token explained in a voice barely louder than a whisper, “Given how much he loved you, it was especially important they use one with you in it.”

“Makes sense. He really was obsessed with you long after you ‘died’, you know,,” Kenny said, her voice slightly muffled behind her shawl, “We all thought he was damn crazy with grief over it.”

Stan’s eyes looked at the ground beneath the painting. He didn’t respond.

“Can’t believe he’s gone,” Kenny continued in a softer voice, “He was just...I dunno, really moral compared to Cartman. Well, I guess  _ that’s _ not hard, but still. Even if he wasn’t as  _ strong _ , he was the best magic user in Kupa in my opinion, even if he was drunk half the time. I would have done anything to have  _ him _ be our Grand Wizard over that piece of shit. He was who was there for me when I lost my mom and then my dad. He’s who took me away at night to teach me magic under the Wizard’s shitty nose. So you know…” She looked down and fiddled with her skirt. 

“He went out heroically, at least,” Token sighed, “Unlike so many here who die meaningless, mundane deaths. He protected this city with all he had against the Dark Mage himself. And I’m sure you all know when it comes to that fucking demon, that’s no light task.”

Tricia instinctually looked away. She felt Jimmy’s hand rest upon her shoulder from behind her.

“The Dark Mage,” Stan echoed.

“Funny that the Wizard thought I could be him and decided to ruin my life over it,” Kenny mused, “Though seeing all the fucking havoc that little bitch brought on, maybe the Wizard had a point in his paranoia.”

“He’s why my family was ripped apart,” Stan said, narrowing his eyes. They were locked on his young self in the painting.

“Stan,” Jimmy said, his hand still on Tricia’s shoulder.

“The Wizard thought I was him, too,” Stan continued, paying no mind to Jimmy, “It’s because of him that I was a target. It’s because of that piece of shit mage that  _ so many _ families were ripped apart. He lives, while so many who had the crime of being  _ similar  _ to him were killed. The fact that my family was  _ only _ ripped apart makes me the lucky one.”

Jimmy squeezed down on her shoulder. 

“My dad did so much to try and protect him, you know?” Stan’s voice began to crack. “How many people worked to keep him safe? How many people died to keep him alive? Of course, fuck the other countless kids that the Wizard thought  _ could _ have been him that they let die. Just him. Only protect him.”

“Pretty screwed up,” Kenny agreed. Tricia tried to take a deep breath, but she realized she couldn’t. She squeezed her eyes shut. Biting the inside of her mouth hard was the only thing that could keep herself from hyperventilating.

“We had a full on organization in the shadows for him. To protect him. To uplift him. And how does he repay us?” Stan stood up and gestured around to the ruined city.

“I take it now you have a change of plans,” Token said.

“You’re damn right,” Stan said through gritted teeth and clenched fists, “I don’t care about any prophecy. I’m gonna make sure that piece of shit pays for what he did. Even if it kills me.”

“ _ Stan!” _ Jimmy yelled in a harsh voice. Stan slowly turned around. When his gaze met the trembling, teary eyed Tricia, the fiery rage in his eyes were instantly extinguished.

“I…” he stumbled, “Y-You know what I mean.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Kenny asked. Her phrasing was blunt, but her tone of voice soft. She put forward a hand as she contemplated reaching out for Tricia, but slowly retracted.

“Nothing,” Jimmy answered for her, “L-Let’s just get going, okay?”

“Please, let’s,” Tricia said in a nearly inaudible voice.

“Yeah.” Stan nodded, his eyes darting away from Tricia, “It’s getting darker. Let’s head to your place already.”

“Alright,” Token agreed, “Like I said, it’s not far. I’ll have some explaining to do to Nicole, but it should be fine.”

“I should hope,” Stan said.

“It’ll be fine,” Token assured him. His tone wasn’t exactly convincing. He looked down at the ground and then back up. “Let’s go,” he said as he began to lead the way once more.

“Come on, Tricia,” Jimmy said softly. His hand slowly loosened and left her shoulder as he began to follow along. She nodded and wiped away the wetness that had formed in her eyes on her sleeves.

And so the small band of people continued. Tricia could hear Stan’s footsteps stop for a moment as he turned to look back behind him. A few moments later, she heard his running footsteps coming back towards them.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenny was originally wearing her Princess Kenny dress from the game, but now she's wearing the Lady Kenny dress from the Black Friday trilogy. Imo, the superior dress.
> 
> Even with what I said, it is kinda weird writing Kenny, the poor boy, as a spoiled princess girl. But I think that was partly what he'd want LOL. Regardless, I tried to keep some of his personality in Princess Kenny, and I'd love to hear feedback.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the second half of what was going to be one chapter! It's a lot of fun to write a bunch of characters interacting, especially after The Thief was so singled in on Craig who was often alone or only with one other person. It's a challenge, but a fun one!

_ The fire was a rare warmth in the bitter cold, its crackling a comforting sound that was a nice difference from the sound of war. Fire had a special place for her, after all. _

_ Tricia stuck her hands in the flames. A bit of dead grass stuck between her fingers was quickly disintegrated, but her hands were as unaffected as they always were. With a sigh, she pulled her hands towards her, trying with all her might to keep the flames in her grasp. The flames spread out, but no differently than how they would with the wind.  _

_ “It’s no use,” she said. As much as the flames didn’t affect her, she couldn’t affect them. She was impervious to fire, but she had no control over it. It was like trying to manipulate smoke. _

_ “I think you’re way too hard on yourself about this,” Kyle said, “You’re not magical, and yet you already have this great ability that most of us magic users can never figure out.” _

_ Tricia clenched her fists around the flames in vain. “Still, imagine if I could  _ control  _ it. Use the flames as a weapon. It would be--I could be a great asset.” _

_ “You already are, Tricia. You’ve always been.” _

_ “Even  _ more _ of one, then.” _

_ “I wish I could tell you it was possible for you to control the power of fire, but it isn’t.” Kyle stood up, picking up his large staff. “Though...there are always other options.” _

_ \--- _

“I was about to donate your dinner to the street kids,” Nicole told her husband from the kitchen as she heard him enter the house. 

Their standard two story home was damaged like every other building in the city, but it was definitely one of the least damaged around. It was still free standing with four walls and a functioning staircase to a second floor. They still had all the basic necessities that one would in a somewhat upper class commoner family home. They were touched by the war, but it was immediately abundant that they were incredibly lucky through this.

“Met some people,” Token said. He took off his cloak and hung it on a hook on top of his wife’s.

“People?” she asked. She stretched her neck out towards the doorway to get a look. As her eyes met the strangers in her home, they widened significantly. “Oh...people.”

“Excuse us for coming into your home in a time like this,” Tricia greeted her as she walked in and pulled down her hood.

“It is a l-lo-lovely place you have here,” Jimmy added, “Especially all things considered.”

“Th-Thank you,” she said, raising a single eyebrow in confusion. She turned to her husband, expecting an explanation.

“Some travelers from out of town,” he said, “Or, well,  _ most  _ of them are.”

“Like me,” Kenny said, taking a few steps forward. She ceremoniously pulled the shawl from her head, revealing her face in an overdramatic, theatrical manner.

Nicole’s hand flew to her mouth. “Y-Your highness? I...I had no idea that you were even--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kenny cut her off, placing the shawl on a chair, “I was cursed for a while, but this wary band of travelers or whatever met with your lovely husband and helped me.”

“I...Token, is this true?”

“It is,” Token nodded with a grin, “This is La Resistance. They’ve come to save the princess and try and help restore Zaron.”

“And we’d very much like you and your husband to join us,” Tricia said, “A healer like him would be useful, of course, and we’ve heard from him that you’re quite a good knight.”

“I...I was, yeah,” she said in an uncertain voice, “But uh...”

“Of course,” Jimmy said, “We haven’t even introduced ourselves. I’m Jimmy, a bard. Obviously you know Princess Kenny. This is Tricia. She’s a human who was raised by elves and also happens to be fireproof. That one there is Stan Marsh...you mighta h-he-heard, you might have heard of him.”

“Hello.” Stan nodded towards her.

“Stanley Marsh?” she said incredulously, “You and the princess are  _ both _ alive?”

“It would seem so,” Stan said with a half grin as he patted himself down.

“I…” She sat down on a chair with a broken back. “This is...a lot to take in.”

“Same, honestly,” Kenny said, “I was asleep for the past few years and just woke up to this bullshit like an hour or two ago.”

“You weren’t asleep,” Stan corrected.

“Dude, shut up,” Kenny spat back, “That counts as being asleep.”

“Tell that to your teeth that nearly ripped out my neck.”

“Maybe those teeth shoulda!”

“ _ Enough! _ ” Tricia scolded them both, “We don’t have time for this and you two fighting doesn’t help anything.” She turned to Nicole. “Like was said, we’re with La Resistance. One of our leaders is currently trying to get us a base, but in the meantime we came here to rescue the princess. We hope that we’ll get the signal to return to our new hideout soon and we’d love to do so with you and your husband among us, but in the meantime if we could wait here we would be eternally grateful.”

“I…” Nicole’s eyes examined each and every one of the people in her house. Her teeth raked across her bottom lip. “I mean, if Token trusts you, you can stay here. But I...I don’t know about all of this.”

“I know it’s a lot,” Token said, walking over to clutch her hand, “I didn’t even believe them at first. But you’ve always said that there’s no future here, right? Now we have the opportunity to leave and really make a difference.”

She looked her husband in the face. “You’re probably right.” Her gaze broke away. “But it’s just…I don’t know. Let’s sleep on this, okay?”

“ _ Nicole _ .”

“That’s fine by me,” Stan said. He had the stone in his hand and analyzed it like he had the hundreds of times before. “We don’t travel at night, and as long as this stone remains black we’re in no hurry, anyway.” Nicole’s eyes widened at the  _ no hurry _ . “ _ I-I mean _ , we don’t plan on staying here in your home, of course. We wouldn’t impose. We’re just waiting for our next base of operations to be confirmed.”

“Alright,” Nicole nodded, “And thank you for understanding my reluctance.” She counted the number of guests on her fingers. “Well, I didn’t exactly make enough food for this number of people, but I’ll make it work. I bet you’re all hungry.” She stared at them wordlessly for a few more moments before turning away towards the kitchen.

Token looked towards his wife before guiding everyone to a small table in the center of the room. It was a tight fit and there weren’t enough chairs, so he searched for pillows and boxes or anything that could be used instead. It was tight around the table for two, but it worked.

“Token is more of a cook than me,” Nicole said as she brought the first plates to the table, “But he works late now, so we have to put up with my cooking.”

“Nah, you’re selling yourself short,” Token said as he went to help carry in two more plates. Tricia stood up to help, but Nicole shooed her guest to sit back down.

“Well, regardless,” Nicole laughed, “There’s not much opportunity for fine dining now.”

Tricia’s plate was not really a plate, but rather a piece of wood. It shouldn’t have been expected that they would have enough, and she didn’t mind. It worked enough, she had eaten on worse, and in these times it was incredibly generous of anyone to offer food. On the wooden slab was a small amount of dark meat and a few wilted flowers and dead grass that acted as a salad.

“What is this?” Kenny asked, trying her best to not scrunch her nose. Of course. From her perspective the last meal she had would have been one of her grand royal meals.

“Token found some dead crows on the road the other day,” Nicole said, setting down her own plate and sitting down. “So you’re in luck, your highness. Before that we’d been living on a lot of rats and bugs.”

Kenny didn’t try to hide her horrified face.

“Get used to it, princess,” Stan laughed, “Rats are part of our main diet.” 

“Maybe I  _ should  _ have stayed cursed,” she said under her breath. She picked up a small piece of meat and brought it to her mouth.

“Wait!” Token stood up, reaching his arm out to stop the princess. She reflexively dropped the meat back on her plate.

“The crows were diseased and rotting,” Nicole explained in a calmer voice, “Token needs to purify them.”

“And that works?” Kenny asked.

“It does,” Token said.

“My husband here has been a real savior in that way,” Nicole said, putting her hand on his shoulder, “In these days, most meat in this city is from diseased or rotting vermin. People would probably eat them anyway, but we’d likely have just as many deaths from sickness and food poisoning as starvation. But Token’s been going around using his abilities to purify them, making them safe to eat.”

“Well, I do what I can,” he shrugged, putting his hand over his wife’s that rested on his shoulder. He stood up, her hand gently sliding off of him. He held out both hands over the table, palms down. He inhaled deeply and emitted a white light, not unlike what he used before for the cat, and sent it to the food. After a few moments, the light dimmed. “ _ Now _ we can eat.”

“You really help the people here,” Stan said, looking down at his plate as he reached to take the first bite.

“Like I said, I try my best.”

“The city doesn’t have a lot,” Nicole said softly, “He makes a big difference to this place.” 

Tricia took a bite. Unlike what could be implied from the face of the princess who could barely hide her disgust, it wasn’t the worst thing Tricia ever ate. It was dry and bland with a rubbery texture, but expecting any better in these times would be foolish. She had eaten far worse. She’d choose the taste of crows over rats anyday.

“It’s d-delicious,” Jimmy said. He ate the quickest and brought out his lute. He played a haunting tune, one that Tricia never heard from him before. It had been a while since she heard him play.

After dinner, Nicole and Token apologized that they would have to sleep on the floor. Tricia couldn’t help but laugh at their hospitality, having slept in frozen open fields many a cold night. 

“Just having a roof over our heads is better than what we’re used to.”

“Really?” Kenny asked in a soft voice, picking at the fabric of her skirt.

“Y-Yes,” Tricia said, “But don’t worry. You’ll get used to it!” She went to her and helped spread out her thin blanket on the cold thin ground. A far cry from the large, fluffy canopy bed with many importanted pillows and blankets that the heir to the Kupa throne would be used to. 

“You gonna lay down, or are you just gonna stand there all night, Princess?” Stan asked from where he laid down, “Gotta used to no castle bedrooms or ladies in waiting.”

“Right,” Kenny said. She sat down atop the thin blanket, her large dress spreading out across the floor. As Tricia drifted off to sleep, she swore she heard her softly weeping.

\---

“Good morning,” Token greeted everyone cheerfully as he made his way down the stairs, his heavy steps echoing through the entire house.

“‘Morning,” said Nicole followed behind him with a much more tired, yet still welcoming voice.

“I forgot that it’s always dark,” Kenny said, stretching as she stood up, “For a second I thought you were waking us in the middle of the night.”

Tricia slowly sat up. Another cool summer morning, though it actually seemed brighter outside than usual. More like a cloudy early evening, sans the yellow of a sunset.

“Sounds like we’re back just in time,” Stan said, swinging the front door open while balancing a basket under his arm.

“I t-t-told you,” Jimmy said.

“Where did you all go this morning?” Nicole asked as she walked towards them at the door.

“We wanted to thank you for your kindness,” Stan said with a big grin on his face, “So Jimmy and I got up early to get to the market to buy some eggs and vegetables that are only  _ kinda _ rotten.”

“Eggs?” Nicole’s eyes widened, “Those are so hard to come by now.”

“We know,” Jimmy winked.

“And...you know we can’t carry eggs with us,” Token added, taking Jimmy’s basket from him and setting it on the table.

Stan placed his basket next to the other. “Jimmy and I were talking. We saw the apprehension you guys had. We know how much good you do for Kupa.”

Jimmy placed his crutches against the wall and sat down on a chair. “As much as you could help us, we know it’d be se-selfish of us to take you away from the people here.”

Token and Nicole glanced at each other. 

“We talked about it last night.” Nicole looked at each and every one of her guests. “We think it’s great what you’re doing, and it’s an honor to help in whatever way we can.” She turned to Kenny specifically. “It’s especially an honor to serve you, your highness.” She turned back to Stan and Jimmy. “But, as you said. Token is the last cleric around. He’s invaluable here. So as much as we would love to help, we have to decline joining you for that reason.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Kenny said, “I’m...honored to have people like you in my kingdom.” 

“If it’s alright, we’d still like to help take you to the front gate,” Token added, “See you guys out.”

“Of course,” Tricia said.

“Let us make you some breakfast first,” Nicole said, “We can use all the nice stuff you’ve given us.”

The breakfast of scrambled old eggs mixed in with soggy carrots was one of the best meals Tricia had in a very long time. It was a simple meal, but the mere smell of cooked eggs reminded her of her childhood and what her mother would make. In those days, as a poor farming family, eggs were rarely kept and often sold, making them a rare treat for her family itself to actually get to eat.

Craig wasn’t a fan of eggs. He didn’t hate them, but he didn’t see what made them so special. Their normal gruel was enough and they were better off selling eggs. Their father would scold him, telling him to be grateful and not complain. 

“You’re upsetting Patricia,” he’d say.

It was funny how things came full circle.

“Tricia?” Stan asked as he noticed her staring at her empty plate, “You doing alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I’ll get ready to go.”

“And where exactly is the place we’re going to?” Kenny asked.

“Not sure,” Stan sighed, looking at the black stone, “But given that you’re with us now, it’s especially not safe to stay here. We should leave Kupa.”

Jimmy nodded. “Even if we’re just heading  _ towards _ somewhere, that would be better than nothing.”

They didn’t have much, so it didn’t take long for them to gather their things. If anything, the longest step was helping Kenny wrap the shawl around her head and neck. As promised, Token and Nicole left with them.

It was a quiet morning in the city. The fires had died down since even the previous night. It was still dark and dreary, but perhaps this was the new normal.

“You know,” Stan said, “Even if it was because we  _ had  _ to with the whole saving the princess thing, I’m glad I got to come back here. I thought I wouldn’t, but…”

“I feel the same,” Tricia said, “Even though unlike you I’d never stepped foot here before.”

“Where are you from, anyway?” Nicole asked, “Before the elves, I mean. Your voice sounds like you’re from here, even if you don’t dress it.”

“I was born in Kupa,” Tricia said, speaking slowly as to carefully plan her words, “But, yeah. I lived in the High Elf Kingdom for some time.”

“But why?” Kenny asked, “Stan I get, but what got you sent to them?”

Her steps slowed. “I uh…”

“It’s kinda personal,” Jimmy cut in.

“Then we won’t press it further,” Nicole said with a smile, gently placing an arm on Tricia’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” Tricia smiled back at her. 

“There she is!” an out of breath voice called out from behind them.

“Freeze!” called another.

_ “Aw shit,”  _ Kenny cursed under her breath. Tricia turned around and faced a group of about five unfamiliar, fully armed men.

“Can we help you?” Token asked.

“Not sure if  _ help _ is the right word,” a man said with a cocky grin, “But if you want to live, you best cooperate.”

“Cooperate with what, exactly?” Token pressed, “I am Token, a cleric and an official guard under Dame Testaburger, escorting guests out of the city with my wife, Nicole.”

“And do you know who exactly your  _ guests  _ are, cleric?” 

  
“That’s not your concern,” Nicole said, taking steps up to him, leaving only an inch between them. “If you haven’t noticed, these days we aren’t exactly concerned with national borders. And like my husband said, we are  _ both _ officials under Dame Testaburger.”

“We don’t work for that bitch,” the first one laughed, “And we honestly don’t care about your precious Kupa. We’re just here for the girl.”

The word  _ girl _ was a trigger for all of them. Token and Nicole both stood in front of Kenny defensively. But a sinking feeling in Tricia’s stomach told her that Kenny wasn’t who they were after. She met eyes with Stan, who nodded at her, then Jimmy.

Kenny opened her mouth under her shawl. “Listen, I don’t know who--”

“Me, right?” Tricia asked.

“Naturally,” one smiled, putting his hands dramatically on his hips.

“Your brother has put out quite the search party for you, yet you’ve been a tricky one to catch,” a third added, “He’ll be very pleased with us bringing you home.”

A chill went through Tricia’s body. She tried to suppress it with a deep breath.

“Alright,” she said. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a pair of gloves. “I’ll go with you. If  _ he’s  _ really doing that much to get me back, there’s no use resisting.”

“That was a lot easier than I thought.”

“But first, you should probably prove that it’s me, right?” she asked, putting on the gloves, “I’m sure _ my brother _ wouldn’t be happy if you brought back an imposter. You should be thorough, you know.”

“What do you want us to do?” one laughed, “Set you on fire?”

“That won’t be necessary,” She walked towards Token. “You still have an extra match, don’t you?” she asked.

“Tricia, what’s going on?”

“Just give it to her,” Stan said. Token looked confused and skeptical, but he slowly reached for his belt and pulled out a single match.

“Light it,” Tricia said. Skepticism only grew across his face, but nonetheless he did. She took the match by the unlit end and walked back towards the men.

“Why the gloves?”

“A lot of people can withstand the pain of a flame to their skin if they’re strong enough,” she explained, looking at the small flame at the end of the match, “And my clothes are fireproof.”

Slowly, she brought the small flame to the gloved fingertip of her other hand. As the fire and material met, in an instant it spread across the entire glove, setting it completely ablaze. She let the match fall and brought her hands together, inflaming the other as well.

The gloves were something she worked on with Kyle for quite some time. It was his idea. What if they made the opposite of fireproof clothing? Fabric that was highly flammable, but wouldn’t burn out or disintegrate the material? It was still experimental and the prototype not fully finalized, but together they created a pair of gloves.

“How do we know those gloves aren’t just burnin’ on the outside, keeping your hands safe?” 

Tricia brought her hands and patted her face and spread her flaming fingers through hair. She brought her hands back out in front of her. She was entirely unharmed.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

Tricia balled her hands into fist. “Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

“Alright,” the one that seemed to be a leader said with a smirk as he walked up to her. “Though can you put that out? Of course you’re nothing but an esteemed guest as the Mage’s younger sister, but he told us you might be a flight risk. So if you don’t mind putting out the fire so we can cuff you.”

“I understand,” Tricia said, looking down at her blazing gloves.

“Well?”

“Just give me a second,” she said. She gripped one of her wrists and pulled at the fabric slightly. “This is special material, so it’s a little complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“Yeah,” she said with a sweet smile, “Let me show you.”

In the blink of an eye she sent a flaming fist square to the man’s face.

“Run!” she yelled. They didn’t really need her to say that, already running in the opposite direction.

“Get that bitch!” an assailant screeched. She felt something hit her, scraping her arm.

“ _ Don’t kill her!”  _ another yelled, “You harm her and the Mage will make you worse than dead.”

“Her companions are fair game, though.”

“The  _ fuck _ is this?” Kenny yelled at Tricia as she ran, lifting up her skirt.

  
“I’ll explain later.”

“You should have explained  _ before _ !” she hissed. She stopped for a moment and grabbed her wand and turned back towards the aggressors. She let out a large pink blast, sending out a wall of power that sent them flying back a few feet.

“That’s the best my dad could teach you?” Stan said, unsheathing his sword.

“Give me a fucking break, I’m sorta out of practice given the whole being cursed for a few years thing.”

“Well, hopefully you get better than that,” he said with a confident grin. He stood sword out as the men got back on their feet and approached them. Tricia punched another one in the arm, setting his tunic in flames. Another, a sword bearer, made the mistake of trying to face Stan head on.

As Tricia tried to hit as many as possible, she heard the sound of more swords clashing around her. She was able to take a brief glance behind her. It turned out that Token wasn’t exaggerating when he said Nicole was a good knight and an asset in battle.

“Charm Stan’s sword,” Token said to Kenny as he sent his magic to his wife’s sword, creating a white flame around it. Kenny rolled her eyes, but did so, nearly hitting Stan with her magic in the process. Still, it reached his blade, creating a pink glow around it. Stan groaned at the color, but didn’t falter for a moment. The man, however, grew distracted by it even if only for a split second. A second was enough for Stan to take advantage and give a killing blow.

Jimmy stood still watching. A man approached him. “What about you? Crutches left you defenseless, huh?” He slowly brought his blade up towards Jimmy’s chin. “Hope you don’t think that’ll leave you with mercy.” 

Jimmy merely spread his usual sly smile across his face as he looked down at the blade.

“What’s so funny?” the man asked. Jimmy’s smile widened. Growing angry, he spat. “I’ll wipe that smile off your face.”

In less than a split second, Jimmy reached out his hand and grabbed the man’s wrist. He twisted his arm back, forcing the man to stab himself in his own neck.

“I’m s-s-sure you will.”

As Nicole and Token finished off their opponent, Tricia managed to get a flaming grip around the final man’s neck. He struggled in pain until a pink glowing arrow pierced his body, killing him instantly.

“You’re welcome,” Kenny said.

“Let’s just clean up this mess,” Stan said, dragging one of the bodies, piling it on top of the other. Tricia counted four of them.

“Weren’t there five?” Token asked. Tricia looked carefully at each of the bodies and the injuries on them. One particular injury that should have been on one of them was absent.

“Their leader,” Tricia said, “The one I initially punched. He got away.”

“He got a fistful of fire to the fucking face,” Kenny said, “How far could he have gone?”

“The Dark Kingdom’s soldiers are really tough,” Stan sighed, “But he’s alone and injured now. He’s probably not going to come after us. He’ll go straight back and report about us.”

Jimmy looked at Token and Nicole. “He saw you with us. You identified yourself. You’re now targets and...”

“Not safe here,” Stan finished for him.

Token took a deep breath. “Well, maybe we were a little quick to reject your invitation after all.”

Nicole looked down at her sword, fresh blood dripping off of it. She brought out a handkerchief and carefully wiped it off before sheathing her sword. She scrunched her face and forced a look of determination. “Where to?” she asked.

“Well,” Stan sighed, reaching for the stone once more, “Like I said, until--”

It shone bright blue.

Tricia gasped. “Tweek!” 

“The kid actually did it,” Jimmy grinned.

“What?” Token asked, “Who is Tweek?”

“One of our leaders,” Stan explained, “He found us our next hideout.”

“Are we forgetting that we were just _attacked_? What the _fuck_ was that about?” Kenny asked, “What did those guys mean by _your_ _brother_?”

Tricia stepped back. “I can explain--”

“ _ We _ can explain on our way,” Jimmy said, “But now, let’s make our way to the Dwarven Mountains.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we have gone full circle! I definitely didn't mean for the "save the princess" arc to run this long! But yeah, essentially all three perspectives you've seen thus far have been close to concurrent, so now we finally get to move on! Yay!
> 
> Writing action is hard and it's honestly one of my weakest points as a writer. But I've also wanted to showcase Tricia using fire to fight for a while now, so I like finally putting that out there!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I meant to post this on the day of the new episode, but I've been incredibly busy! Still...within a few days, so close enough...right?

A single white candlestick on a table. The whisk was black and pointed straight up, having previously been lit before. There was nothing else on the wood table in the corner of the room. No other distractions. Just a candle. A normal, white wax candle in an ordinary bronze candlestick holder. 

Craig inhaled deeply as he raised his hand outward.

Just light the candle. A simple trick that a regular child mage would learn.

With an exhale, he felt the energy build up in his arm. The energy was nothing more than raw potential, something that could become anything. In this case, he needed it to become a flame. Just a small one. Enough to only light the tiny wick at the end of the candle, but nothing more.

An exercise in control. In focus.

As he willed, a fire did in fact come out from his arm. Only, instead of a tiny spark, he let out an inferno. It was scorchingly hot and bigger than his own body, ejecting itself out from him faster than he could stop it. It reached the wick, sure. But it instantly melted the entirety of the candle and set the wood table it sat upon into flames.

“ _Shit_ ,” he cursed at himself.

There was magic that could be used to stop fire, but given his feeble attempts at control in  _ creating  _ fire, he didn’t want to take his chances. Instinctually he took off his cape and considered throwing it over the flames to stomp them out. However, an immediate comparison between the blazing corner of the room in front of him and his thin cape made it clear that it would only destroy one more thing.

He bit his lower lip. Maybe attempting to quell the flames with magic  _ was _ the best solution. He closed his eyes tightly and raised both of his palms towards the growing fire. He inhaled and--

The sound of steps behind him broke his concentration. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a bucket full of water thrown onto the flames. It shouldn’t have been enough water to stop flames that size--and yet it did, leaving behind the burnt remains of the table and blackened holder on the floor. The water must have been enchanted.

“Seems like I came just in time.”

Craig turned around to look at the figure holding the bucket. 

Thomas. The relatively new recruit from a farming village the Dark Kingdom liberated. He was incredibly enthusiastic about joining their cause and, despite being a mere farmer with no magic or training, managed to prove himself and join the high ranks of the Dark Kingdom’s courts incredibly fast.

“Oh. It’s you.”

His presence was...tolerable to Craig. It always made him feel like he accomplished something by getting outsiders to join their cause. After all, liberation was part of the promise he made poor farmers in what felt like forever ago. Thomas himself was a very average sort of person, including in appearance. Yet, unlike Clyde’s sort of average appearance, with Thomas it was in an averagely conventionally attractive way. He had a tic, both verbal and physical, that he heard some people in the Dark Kingdom make snide comments about, but it never bothered Craig in the slightest.

“Hope that’s not a problem.”

“No,” Craig said, putting his cloak back on, his gaze focused on the burnt crisp of a table.

“You know,” Thomas began, taking a few steps forward towards Craig, “As someone who grew up in a village without magic,  _ sh-shit _ I’m still amazed by what you all can do. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to  _ mm _ get used to it.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. A-And not in a bad way at all! I think it’s incredible. It took mankind how long to perfect creating fire the  _ normal _ way? Yet here you are, doing it with a flick of your wrist.”

“At least you can control flint,” Craig muttered under his breath, unsure why he was saying it within earshot of Thomas, “If you can’t control it, it’s more trouble than it’s worth.” 

“You’re talking to  _ me _ of all people about control?” 

Craig’s eyes widened. “Oh. I-I didn’t mean it like that.”

Thomas laughed. “Don’t worry, I knew what you meant. But either way, and with all due respect, I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

Craig gave him a skeptical look.

“I’m serious,” Thomas continued, “You are  _ the _ right hand man of the Dark Lord, aren’t you? His personal mage? You and your raw ability has shaped Zaron in these short years than most kings or queens could ever hope to in a lifetime. I have heard talk about your control of your power but...with all that you’ve done with it in its current state, do you really  _ need _ control?”

Craig wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Anyway.” Thomas placed the bucket down next to the wall. “I, shit, uh, didn’t come here to talk about that. Or to talk at all. The Dark Lord asked me to send for you.”

“What does Clyde want?”

“That’s not for me to say.”

“I see.” Craig gave one last look at the charred corner of the room. “Alright, let’s go, then.”

In the few years Craig lived in the Dark Kingdom, he grew quite familiar with the castle and its long, dark stone corridors. He thought it was a bit too much, honestly. Showy and larger than necessary, especially when Craig was against flashy displays of power. He thought his bed chambers were too much for only himself. Too self important.

Clyde argued that that wasn’t the case. The castle didn’t only act as their home, but as a base of operations, a capitol of sorts. The war rooms, the meeting halls, training areas--all of it was necessary and putting it in one place was more practical. Craig half heartedly accepted this--he couldn’t pretend to know all the complicated aspects of ruling, after all.

“Thomas?” Craig broke the silence between them as they walked through the halls.

“ _ H- _ Yes?”

Craig couldn’t figure out how to phrase it right away. The sound of a light rain starting hitting the castle began to fill the silence. Craig inhaled. “What do you think about the castle?”

Thomas likewise didn’t answer right away. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir.”

“In the most literal sense. What are your thoughts of this physical building we’re currently walking in?”

“ _ Hh _ .” Craig couldn’t tell if it was a pause or a tic. He looked back and saw Thomas biting his lower lip in contemplation. “To be honest,” he said, “It isn’t really  _ my _ thing, if you know what I mean. I have never really been for the whole  _ dark aesthetic _ .”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah,” he said. Thomas looked out the hallway window as he continued walking, gazing at the dim, rainy day. “I’ll be honest, I do miss the sun. Spring was my favorite season.”

“And now you’re kinda part of what killed spring?”

“Well...I miss the warmth of spring, but I know that what we’re doing for Zaron is more important than what I want. Even if  _ I  _ don’t care for the dark and cold, the ends justify the means. And you know, sometimes you have to put aside what you love for the greater good. We all make sacrifices, after all.”

Craig didn’t know how to respond to that. Especially when it only vaguely answered his original question.

“Anyway,” Thomas’s steps slowly stopped in front of the large doors of the throne room, “I’ve delivered you now.”

“Yeah.” His response felt awkward, but he wasn’t sure what would have been a better one. He began to reach for the door, but Thomas cut him off.

“You know...” Thomas sounded hesitant and uncertain. He looked down at his shoes and then back up at Craig.

“If you have something to say, just say it.”

“Alright. You killing the Wizard,” he said, his tone surprisingly more emboldened than with anything he said before, “Anything we’ve done, good or bad...All the sacrifices we’ve made. All of it was worth it to see that monster’s corpse.”

Thomas looked intensely into Craig’s eyes, but Craig’s own gaze broke away from him, off into the distance. It was only a day ago, but already Craig didn’t want to be reminded of it. Of the way his feelings overcame him and became completely uncontrollable. The way his power built up within him, fed by his hatred and anger towards a singular person. He  _ hated  _ the Wizard. He  _ wanted  _ him dead. And yet--

Yet his death didn’t make him feel the way he thought it should. Perhaps it was the fact that the tyrant Wizard had already fallen from power, meaning his death didn’t automatically change Zaron. It didn’t undo all the suffering over the centuries caused by him. All it did was make him stop breathing.

Maybe it was the  _ way  _ he died that stuck with Craig. The way it didn’t even feel like his own actions. Even though the spell that killed him ultimately worked, much like the spark that turned into an inferno, it wasn’t what he wanted. It was almost as though he was no longer in control of his own body, but instead  _ something else  _ created the killing blow. 

Or perhaps, that was just what Craig always told himself after the fact. That deep down, he  _ wanted _ to distance himself from his actions.

Craig sighed. “Maybe.”

“Not  _ maybe _ .” Thomas shook his head. “You did a great thing for Zaron. You’re  _ doing  _ a great thing for Zaron. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” 

Craig let out the slightest smile as he reached for the door. “Thank you.”

Just before he started to open the door, it was pulled open from the other side. It startled him, but it started the other person even more. Leslie’s eyes widened as she quickly let go of the door.

Leslie, unlike Thomas, was not a recruit. She was very young when she survived the war that left the Dark Kingdom in tarnishes and was among the poor, strangling survivors that remained in the kingdom. She was one of Clyde’s fiercest supporters when he returned to the Dark Kingdom with the Stick, quelling concern over his legitimacy or whether the ruined kingdom  _ wanted _ to enter the international stage once more, let alone rule it.

Her rising in the ranks was seemingly inevitable, her personal loyalties to Clyde aside. She was a tactical genius and an incredibly talented magic user, despite her powers being sealed by the Wizard the majority of her life. Sure, she had much less innate power than Craig, but she could  _ control _ it. In fact, her control was unparalleled.

“I apologize, my Dark Mage,” she said in her alluring, songlike voice. Her perfect black hair bounced slightly as she bowed her head in respect. Although Craig had no personal interest in her beauty, it was undeniable. He was sure it also played a part in her tactics and Clyde’s favor of her.

“Whatever,” he said, “Clyde’s in there, right? He wants to see me?”

“That’s right,” she replied, a smile growing across her bright red lips, “You were taking a while, so I was sent to check up on you.”

“Sorry,” Thomas said with a twitch.

“No, no.” She shook her head. “You are here now, and that is what matters. Let’s go on in.”

Craig and Thomas trailed behind her as she swung open the large doors and led the way to the throne. As expected, Clyde sat upon his grand chair in his normal slouched position, his overly heavy crown resting on Bebe’s otherwise empty seat. Although Leslie led the way, once they reached the throne itself, she and Thomas stayed a few paces back away behind Craig.

“Finally made it.” Clyde only straightened up the slightest bit as the three made it at the foot of the throne. “I’ve been wondering where the hell you were, Craig.”

“In the castle.” Craig crossed his arms. “Where else?”

“Yeah, well the castle is big.”

Craig had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “What do you want, Clyde?” 

“Always got that stick up your ass, don’t you?” Clyde  _ did _ roll his eyes. “I wouldn’t though, given that we got an update on your sister.”

“Tricia?” Craig’s eyes widened. His heart instantly began to pound faster, a feeling swelling through his entire body.

“As our intelligence said before,” Leslie joined in the conversation, “She was in fact in Kupa City, seen with prominent members of La Resistance.”

“Who?” Craig turned around to face her, the intensity growing inside of him.

He knew La Resistance very well, after all. Of course, as the biggest form of resistance against the Dark Kingdom, he had fought against them many times. Yet he also at one point, in what felt like forever ago now, walked among them. He got to get to know each of the prominent figure heads. Although most of them were intolerable to him from the beginning, some of them...Well,  _ one _ of them…

No, it didn’t matter.

“Not your boyfriend, if that’s what you’re wondering. We still can’t pinpoint his location,” Clyde sneered.

“He’s not my boyfriend. And that’s not what I--”

“Stanley of House Marsh was the most prominent figurehead recognized,” Leslie cut them both off, having no time for the bickering between the two friends, “As well as Jimmy the Bard.”

“Just the three of them?”

“No.” She shook her head. “They were also accompanied by two major figureheads of Kupa City--notably  _ not _ members of La Resistance, that we’re aware of.”

Craig fiddled with his necklace. “So the city  _ is  _ allied with them.”

Leslie took a couple steps forward, her heels clicking against the floor and echoing throughout the throne room. “It was a married couple, Token and Nicole of House Black.”

“The clerics?” Craig asked.

“Yes, and that is exactly what Token was,” Leslie said with a sharp nod, “While his wife was once a knight under Dame Testaburger. Both are fiercely loyal to her and have taken up protective and supportive roles in the city, and even introduced themselves to our people as officials under her. Although it is possible they were working with La Resistance without her knowledge, given their fierce loyalty to her and their kingdom, I believe they were working under her orders.”

Craig scoffed. “They never learn, do they? After all this shit, the citizens  _ still _ side with them.”

“There’s more,” Leslie continued, “There was a young woman accompanying them. She was a human in elven clothes and her face was obscured, but we have reason to believe she was Princess Kenny McCormick herself.”

“Didn’t she drop dead ages ago?” Clyde asked, slouching uninterestedly in his chair.

Craig’s heart started pounding in his chest. “No,” he said, “That’s what the Wizard  _ wanted _ everyone to believe, but no. Though with  _ that _ curse, she might as well have been.”

“The woman they saw appeared to be scrappy and in good health,” Leslie said, “She even fought with magical ability.”

“Maybe they figured out how to break the curse?” Thomas spoke for the first time, “It could have been their reason for going to the city?”

“I don’t really care.” Craig squeezed his eyes shut. “She was just a random girl used as a pawn. She hasn’t been a relevant player in Kupa for years.” He opened his eyes back up and looked to Leslie. “But you captured them, right? Where’s my sister now?”

“They got away, sir. I’m sorry.”

The pounding in Craig’s heart stopped. Instead, it felt like he no longer had any heartbeat at all. “ _ What _ ?”

“They were able to flee, killing nearly all of our people in the process, save one who narrowly escaped a near deadly blow from your sister. They approached her peacefully, saying they were representing you specifically. The unfortunate fact of the matter is, she would rather kill our kind than join us.”

Craig’s body grew cold. Like the already chilly room became unbearably frozen, the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Aw shit,” Clyde said, “Look what you did, you pissed him off.”

Craig’s hands balled into trembling fists.  _ “ _ Clyde, just  _ shut up.” _

“C’mon, don’t be like that. We’ll kill the failure who didn’t get her. We’ll get a bigger, better group to retrieve--”

“I said,  _ shut up! _ ” Craig raised his arm up towards Clyde, his palm facing outward. He didn’t mean to, but a gust of wind expelled from his arm, knocking over some papers that were sitting around the throne. An annoyed, yet unconcerned look spread across Clyde’s face as he casually reached for the Stick at his side.

“Stop!” Thomas yelled, grabbing Craig’s shoulder. Craig instantly jolted, trying to shake him away, but Thomas refused to let go. He leaned in, and whispered into Craig’s ear, “Remember what you said about control.”

The words sunk into Craig like a knife. The tension building in his muscles loosened. His hand slowly dropped down towards his side. A smirk grew across Clyde’s face as he put the Stick back down.

“Alright,” Craig sighed, “I understand. We’ll get her eventually.”

“Of course we will, my Dark Mage,” Leslie said, “We’ll get all of them.”

“I-In different manners of speaking, of course!” Thomas cut in.

Craig looked at both of them and then up at Clyde. Without another word, he made his way out of the throne room. He was prepared to ignore them if they called out to him, but thankfully none did. 

\---

“You sure know how to make a scene, you know?”

“I thought you said I was impossible to find.”

“Not when you’re this upset.”

That was fair enough, Craig supposed. He did find himself wandering to and sitting on the roof of the castle whenever he needed to clear his mind. Something about the cold breeze on the top of the high building overlooking everything alone helped him breathe better.

“You know,” Clyde huffed as he pulled himself up onto the roof from the balcony below, “I’m glad you’re here. We haven’t really chilled in a long time.”

“A lot going on,” Craig said off into the distance.

“Still,” Clyde said. He didn’t have the best coordination in the world, especially with the slipperiness with the recent rain, but he managed to drag himself to a spot next to him. He was a bit short of breath and laid back against the slightly slanted tile roof. “Even though I’m the Dark Lord and you’re the Dark Mage overseeing my plot to take over Zaron, outside of that we’re still best friends..”

Craig chuckled under his breath. “Yeah.”

“And as both the Dark Lord  _ and _ as your friend, I can tell a lot of shit seems to be hanging on you lately.”

His chuckling stopped. He looked down to his hands resting on his lap. “I dunno. I think...I don’t know.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Clyde playfully shook his shoulder, “I know this is a lot. It’s a lot of pressure for  _ both _ of us. Not too long ago we were shitty street rats, and now we have all of this.” He gestured out to the city below.

“You’re right.” He forced a smile and looked at Clyde. “We’re both trying our best, and it’s just...a lot. But…”

“We’re ride or die, right?”

Craig rolled his eyes. “I guess. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s not...It’s not anyone here’s fault.”

“Is it about Tricia?”

He paused for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“Is it about your powers?”

Craig didn’t respond.

“Dude, you’re hella powerful. I know that, you know that,  _ everyone _ knows that. I know that people act scared of you or think they can just take advantage of you like those La Resistance assholes, but at the end of the day, you’re still that loser farmboy trying to figure shit out. I know you compare yourself to Leslie, but she doesn’t have a fraction of the power you have.”

A chilly gust of wind blew across the roof. Craig pulled his cloak tightly over his chest. “I know.”

“And hell, man, even if you complain that you can’t control it or whatever, it’s been really fucking effective so far. Look how much shit you’ve accomplished for us, for  _ me _ . Hell, people  _ should _ be scared of you. In a badass, good way. You’re like some Angel of Death.”

Craig cracked a sideways grin. “You sound just like Thomas.”

“That’s because everyone sees it. Except maybe you.”

“Maybe,” Craig yawned, stretching his arms back as he laid down. He hadn’t done much that day, and yet he felt so lethargic. 

“You ready to go back in?” Clyde asked.

“In a minute,” he responded. He chewed at his bottom lip. “But first, I wanted to ask. I know he was lying and all, but did you know what the Wizard was talking about?”

“He said too much bullshit for you to not be more specific.”

“You know...about me. Where he said I’d be better off dead than what you had planned.”

Clyde sat up. “You didn’t believe that bullshit, did you?” he said, taking offense.

“Of course not! But...I don’t know. I know he was lying, but I still…”

“You’re right.” Clyde stood up on the roof, looking down on Craig. “He was making up whatever he could on the spot to weasel his way out of shit. I thought that was obvious to you.”

“I-It was!” Craig sat up. “I don’t--I’m not saying I doubt you or anything. I’m just…I...”

“Then what?” Clyde’s voice raised to a near yell.

“I don’t know.  _ I don’t know. _ I just…” He was at a loss for words. “I just...what  _ am _ I?”

Clyde’s let out a sigh. He stood still for a moment before sitting back down. “You’re Craig,” he finally said, “My best friend and probably the only person I can really trust in this shithole world.”

“Clyde, I--”

“No  _ you _ listen,” Clyde cut him off, “I don’t care what anyone says. Sure, you’re incredibly powerful and strategically necessary, but you  _ are _ my best friend and I wouldn’t  _ want _ to do any of this without you. I don’t want  _ anyone _ ,  _ especially _ you to think I’m just using you or whatever. I wouldn’t. You and I have been through too much shit and you’ve personally saved my life numerous fucking times.”

Craig blinked. “Um...thanks Clyde. I guess.”

“I mean it,” Clyde said, looking off into the distance. It was sunset. Not that it meant as much with how dim the sun was against the thick grey sky. “Let’s destroy this world together.”

“Of course.”

“Starting with finally flattening that shitstain of a city once and for all.”

_ “Of course.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go. A brief look into Craig. I was excited to write Craig again, but it was surprisingly difficult. I may know his mindset here, but it's hard to do it with proper nuance I'm trying to go for. After all, even if this one won't primarily be in his perspective, it's still ultimately *his story*
> 
> And next we can finally get back to Tweek. This is supposed to be a Tweek pov story, and yet 7 out of 8 chapters so far haven't been oops. 
> 
> LASTLY I have no experience with Tourettes, so please if you have insight in how to better write it (or write it in general) feel free to DM me on twitter or tumblr (@wintergrew)!!! I tried to not go overboard or overly stereotypical, but in the end I don't really know much about writing it.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween everyone!
> 
> Thank you to ambercreek95 for being a beta on this chapter!!

_ “Heard they gave up on you,” a Barbarian kid passively stated as Tweek exited his tutor’s home. He was maybe a year or so younger than Tweek and a little bit shorter. Much like the prince, he was small in build, and yet unlike Tweek he had noticeable lean muscles with a small outline of abs forming on his stomach.  _

_ “Gave up on me?” Tweek asked, “What do you mean? Did you hear something from my father?” _

_ “I see you around here in that elf’s place a lot. Aren’t they havin’ you learn foreign languages full time now?” The kid blinked at Tweek.  _

_ “They’re giving up on me learning Elvish? What did they say about me? My teacher, she always said I was good but… I-I always thought I was good, but… she was probably just lying to me when--” Tweek always jumped to conclusions. He knew he shouldn’t, but whenever something was implied, he always presumed the worst. _

_ “I don’t fucking know if you’re good at languages or not,” the kid said before taking a large bite of a fruit in his hand. It crunched loudly, spilling juices all over his face that he didn’t bother to wipe off. _

_ “Oh,” Tweek sighed in relief, “thank goodness.” _

_ “But why are you spending your time learning that crap, anyway?” he asked with a full mouth. “We’re Barbarians, not some prissy shirt wearers from Kupa.” _

_ “Well, I’m the prince, so--” _

_ “Yeah, so what good does learning how to talk to elves do? Besides that lady, when was the last time that any of us talked to elves?” He rolled his eyes and tossed the mostly uneaten fruit to the ground. “Shouldn’t you be learning how to actually… y’know...?” _

_ “What?”  _

_ “Act like a Barbarian and fight for once?” _

_ “I  _ am  _ still learning combat!” Tweek protested, “I-I’m getting better!” _

_ “Alright.” He straightened up and kicked the fruit to the side. “Prove it.” _

_ “Prove it?” Tweek took a step back. _

_ “Yeah. Wanna go right now?” _

_ “Go? You mean fight?” Tweek's eyes widened. “Why do you want to fight me? I’m sorry if I offended you.” _

_ “We’re a warrior race, and you're our future King,” he said, backing Tweek up against a tree. “You just said that you’re getting better. Prove it and fight me.” _

_ “I don't-- I don't want any trouble. I'm supposed to go back home--” _

_ “To your weak little mommy who coddles you?” he laughed, getting far too up in the young prince’s personal space for comfort, the smell of the fruit remaining on his face filling Tweek’s nose. “That bitch isn’t even a real Barbarian. Don't worry about her. Fight me.” _

_ “I-I-I-I don’t that’s a good idea. We might-- something might happen. We don’t want to cause trouble. We’re not supposed to fight without the proper--” _

_ “Everyone’s out hunting. That dumb elf isn’t gonna get involved, and no one else is here to stop us. Shut up and fight me!” He was getting irritated.  _

_ “But I--” _

_ “Hey!” a gruff adult voice called out. The kid jumped back and Tweek let out a sigh of relief. _

_ “Aw shit.” The kid rolled his eyes, taking a step back from Tweek. _

_ “Step away from the prince this instant!” the man called again, becoming visible to Tweek as he came forward. As Tweek hoped, he was a royal guard, presumably sent by his father to escort him back. From appearances alone he was a force not to be reckoned with, as was standard for people of his post. He was tall, even for a barbarian, with muscles on his arms thicker than the neck of both Tweek and the kid. He pointed a spear at the young prince’s aggressor-- a spear that no doubt killed many.  _

_ The kid was unimpressed. “Fine, fine,” he said, raising his hands sarcastically. He started to walk away in a markedly casual manner, side-eyeing Tweek one last time. “Just a little odd that the heir to a warrior’s throne needs this sort of backup.” _

_ The guard pointed his spear dangerously close to the boy. “Watch your mouth--” _

_ “No, let him be!” Tweek cut him off, “I don't want trouble.” _

_ “But your highness—” _

_ “Please.” _

_ The guard’s eyes narrowed in on the child, and for a minute he held his stance. Finally he sighed and relaxed. “As you wish.” _

_ He lowered his spear and let the boy slugger off with his rude grin. Even with his spear lowered, the guard made sure to give a harsh glare towards him, waiting until he completely disappeared into the thick of the forest trees. _

_ “Anyone who speaks to their future King in that way has no honor. That is a disrespect that can be even worthy of death,” the guard told him after the boy was for sure gone. _

_ “Why? Why should he die for me?”  _

_ The guard was bewildered at his prince’s question. “Because you are part of the long line of—” _

_ “He’s just a kid.” Tweek looked away. _

_ “That’s no excuse.” _

_ “Forget it. Just-- can you please just escort me home now?” _

_ “As you wish, your highness.” He brought a fist to his chest, the formal stance. _

_ Tweek bit his lip before he spoke once more. “And, don’t tell my father about this.” _

_ His fist lowered to his side. “I can’t lie to my King.” _

_ “Please,” Tweek pled, his expression falling, “I don’t--I don’t want him to worry. I don’t want him to think that I… that I can’t… I know that I’m just a…” He paused for a moment. “I can’t deal with him knowing about this.” _

_ The guard looked at his young prince. He had a look of sympathy in his eyes. He was always one of the kinder, more protective guards towards Tweek. “I can’t lie...but if he doesn’t ask, I won’t mention it.” _

_ “Thank you,” he said softly. _

\---

“The Dark Kingdom has been relentless on their assault of Kupa City,” Kyle said, “They’re not going to stop until the entire place is leveled and all of its residents have either fled or been killed.”

“I understand,” the Dwarf King said, from his large chair at the end of the stone meeting table. Despite his smaller stature as a dwarf, the grand, carved out seat positioned him higher than the elf and human who sat on either side of him. “But they’ve also resisted more than anyone. You all evacuated your city, while those humans stubbornly hold on.”

“Well, humans  _ are  _ a stubborn kind.” Kyle looked to his hands resting on the table. “They’re not going to give up easily. Which goes for both Kupa and the Dark Kingdom, both of which are human. Their pride doesn’t allow otherwise.”

There was a sadness to Kyle’s voice that had grown more and more apparent over the years. It was very much unlike the regal, confident one he had when Tweek first met him. He still dressed as a proper Elven King, but the toll of the war was physically apparent. His hair messier, his clothes less perfectly fitted, and dark circles forever apparent under his tired green eyes.

“Plus, the Dark Kingdom has a personal grudge against them,” Tweek cut in, leading the two kings to look at him with slight surprise. He generally didn’t speak much in the meetings between the three royal leaders. He wasn’t as well spoken or confident as Kyle and he didn’t have the home terf authority of Dwarf King Dougie. Plus, he was still only a Prince. Between them and their years of ruling experience, he felt out of place in the large, carved out meeting hall.

But still, he knew what he said very well. He heard Craig countless times speak ill of Kupa; the city, the people, everything. They treated him poorly and he naturally wanted revenge. Sure, he also hated the elves, but the vitriol wasn’t the same.

Tweek himself only fed into that. He shared with him the unknown histories of the atrocities Kupa committed. Sure, he also pushed forth the idea that people were people no matter where they were from, but...

“He’s right,” Kyle said, “The Dark Lord and the Dark Mage are both from Kupa, after all. Their first attacks were on the High Elf Kingdom and the Kingdom of Kupa Keep, but they have been especially brutal towards Kupa, which is saying a lot considering how brutal they’ve been towards everywhere else.”

“They feel like Kupa failed them,” Tweek said quietly, feeling as though he was sinking into his chair. “Beyond the obvious vendetta of them helping lead the way to destroy the Dark Kingdom in the first place, remember that they were both raised in Kupa, the Dark Lord being half and…  _ the mage _ being nothing else. They were raised on a dirt poor farm that didn’t support them and didn’t help them when they were sieged, turning their whole lives upside down. They weren’t helped when they were poor children living on the streets.”

“Kupa reaped what they sowed,” Dougie said, crossing his arms.

“ _ No!” _ Tweek interjected a little too loudly. Dougie raised an eyebrow. “I-I mean,” Tweek continued more cordially, “Yes, Kupa created their own enemy. But no, they don’t  _ deserve _ this at all. For all the horrible people in Kupa, there are good, ordinary people as well. Plus, the Wizard kept quite a lid on information that I’m sure many of the horrible ones wouldn’t be like that if only they knew the truth.”

“You’re a weird Barbarian,” Dougie laughed. Tweek sulked into his chair.

“He’s right, though,” Kyle said, “ _ No one _ deserves what the Dark Kingdom has unleashed onto this world. My mother may have disagreed and the High Elf Kingdom may have leveled cities and villages in the past, but  _ I  _ have been against that. We may fight wars when necessary, but wars should be with soldiers and knights,  _ not _ on everyday people.  _ Not _ on civilian residencies.”

“Well, we dwarves don’t fight your wars at all,” Dougie said, trying to make his voice sound deep and authoritative, “We’ve managed to stay out of trouble. We’re housing you for now--”

“And we’re very appreciative of that,” Kyle said.

“--but even that is risking our neck more than we probably should. We dwarves want  _ no trouble. _ ”

“And that’s your right,” Kyle said, “We royals--the good ones, anyway--want nothing more than to protect our people.”

“What about you, Barbarian?” Dougie asked, “Where are your people?”

“I--.” Tweek didn’t know how to properly answer. Unlike the Dwarven or High Elf Kingdom, the barbarians  _ didn’t _ have a unified kingdom. Rather, they were functionally independent tribes with different cultures and linguistic dialects. The Barbarian King was the figurehead of the alliance between all of them, but since the banishment of their people into the forest so long ago, Barbarian tribes largely minded their own business.

His father had demanded respect. He wasn’t the best warrior, but he was seen as a good leader. He managed to unite the tribes and create a bond between them unlike they had seen for a long time. Perhaps if his father was still King, he would guide them and unite them into a powerful alliance that could be a great asset to the Dark Kingdom.

But his father was dead now. His parents both died suddenly in an accident, leaving their disappointment of an heir left behind. They warned against his father marrying a beautiful, non-Barbarian woman over a strong warrior to make up for his own lack of physical strength. But the Barbarians were left with Tweek.

He worked hard. He was able to improve in every way he possibly could. He overcame most of the shortcomings he was looked down upon for when he was young. He was going to prove himself in his Coming of Age Rights more than any Barbarian before him.

But what did he do? He helped guide an evil mage to the object that helped him destroy the world. He  _ couldn’t  _ go back to the forest now and crown himself King of the Barbarians. Not until he fixed this mess  _ he _ helped create.

“We have a number of them in our ranks,” Kyle said when Tweek appeared unwilling to answer.

“Yes,” Tweek said, “The Dark Kingdom has attacked our people far less brutally relative to other human groups, but we’ve still suffered. Directly, but also our home, the Lost Forest has become... _ sick _ . But we’re a loose federation, not a true united kingdom, so ultimately chiefs of individual tribes decide what they want to do.”

Dougie leaned forward in his chair towards Tweek. “But you’re still the heir to the throne and  _ can _ order them around if you want to, right? Why haven’t you crowned yourself as king yet?”

“I--”

“Your highness,” a dwarf man called out as he swung open the doors. He wore the uniform of the border guards complete with a large ax, and had a sense of urgency to him.

“What do you want? The royals are talking, so this better be important.”

“It is,” he said, huffing and leaning on his knees as though he had been running quite a way. He wiped sweat off his bearded chin before straightening up to address his king. “Her Royal Highness Princess Kenny McCormick of the Kingdom of Kupa Keep has arrived.”

“They’re here,” Tweek said, standing up from his chair.

“Alright.” Dougie likewise stood from his seat. “We can continue this later,  _ with _ the princess.”

\---

_ Tweek picked up the ax on the ground. It was in the training field. The area was a relatively cleared, open space for practicing, though of course the forests, with the terrain most battles would be fought in, were also used. _

_ The stone ax was heavy. It was a struggle for him to hold up, but he did it nonetheless. _

_ “Your highness?” his guard asked. He stared at the young prince’s struggle, looking as though he was wondering if he should help him pick it up. _

_ “Teach me to wield this!” Tweek’s words were strained as he struggled to hold it up even higher. He was able to bend his elbows slightly, but it was apparent that he wouldn’t be able to to hold it up to a proper position to actually use it.  _

_ “Your highness, that’s--” _

_ “No!” Tweek yelled. There was a stubbornness and almost anger in his voice that was notably uncharacteristic for him. “I need to become a great warrior.” He let the weapon fall back to the ground. As the stone ax hit, there was a loud thump. He looked his guard in the eyes. “You’re going to teach me how.” _

_ The guard laughed. Tweek felt an anger and embarrassment grow in his stomach. Noticing that, the guard stopped. _

_ “Your highness,” he said, picking up the ax. The large man did so with much ease. “I can train you, but I can tell you right now that this weapon here is not for you.” _

_ “But--” _

_ “Don’t get me wrong, you  _ can  _ become a great warrior,” he said, swinging around the ax and placing it on a large stone table at the edge of the training field. “But this is not the weapon for you. You need ones that suit you.” He reached for a bow and arrow set on the weapons rack and tossed it over to Tweek. The young prince nearly dropped it, but he caught it all the same. _

_ “But I’ve  _ been  _ learning archery,” Tweek said. _

_ “And you’re quite skillful at it, aren’t you? Though with training you can get even better.” _

_ “But--But I need to learn more! People say that I only learn archery because I’m a coward who can’t handle anything else.”  _

_ “They are wrong to look down at archery, and it is not a coward’s weapon. It’s a long honored tradition as well as a very useful skill for us Barbarians,” he explained. “For millennia, we have been the most skilled archers in all of Zaron, only rivaling the elves. It was the case long ago in our open highlands, and it is the case now in our forest. And with someone as tactical and intelligent as you, I believe you should follow the tradition.” _

_ “But--that’s only for long distances!” Tweek protested, placing the bow and arrows to the side, “As a future King, I must be able to do hand to hand battle. I need to be strong. I need to be brave. I… I...” His expression fell. He had to fight tears of frustration from forming in his eyes. _

_ The guard slowly walked over to Tweek. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small dagger. He placed it in the young prince’s palm and wrapped his fingers around it. Tweek looked at it carefully. It was metal, with smooth pale hilt that appeared to be made of white shells. _

_ “This dagger has been in my family for many generations. I have no children to pass it onto.” _

_ “Thank you,” Tweek said, “but if it’s important to your family, I shouldn’t. Plus, a small dagger like this--” _

_ “Your highness, let me tell you a secret.” He leaned down towards the young prince. “It’s not the weapon itself that matters. Not its size, nor its appearance. It’s what the wielder does with it.” He stood up. “People may not think that a small dagger is the true weapon of a Barbarian King, that it is at all capable.” A smile grew across his face. “But I know otherwise.” _

_ “Th-Thank you.” That was all Tweek could manage to say. _

_ “But now, Your Highness, you should run along. I know that elf is waiting for you.” _

_ \--- _

“Tricia!” Tweek called out. The straggling group of La Resistance was waiting for them at the exit of a tunnel leading into the Dwarven City. They were dirty, exhausted, and only just warming up from the blistering cold outside. Though that was nothing next to the fact that they were  _ safe _ .

“Tweek!” A large smile grew across Tricia’s face as she spotted him. She dropped her traveling pack she carried and ran to him. Before Tweek could brace himself, she wrapped her arms around him in a big hug. The force nearly knocked him over and it was hard to breathe, but he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, much more gently than she did him.

“Of course!” she said, pulling away from the hug to look him in the face. “You know we wouldn’t fail you.”

“Right.” Tweek looked at the group of weary travelers. Stan had already begun to brief Kyle, the two walking off in another direction. Jimmy sat on a bench, absentmindedly tuning his lute that no doubt was affected by the cold air. Near them, however, were three figures he had never seen before. Having  _ one  _ was expected, but three was not. “Looks like you found more people than just the princess.”

“Yes!” she said, grabbing Tweek’s wrist to pull him over. She dragged him quite forcefully, a lot of energy in a girl that had just braved a steep, freezing mountain. “Token and Nicole of Kupa. They helped us greatly in Kupa City and as a cleric and a knight, they will be invaluable in helping us.”

Her words made Tweek stop abruptly. Tricia nearly tripped over her own feet.

He looked at her. “Are you sure they’re loyal to us?” he asked in a voice quiet enough to be out of earshot. He glanced over to the two strangers. They seemed to be a young couple. The woman--Nicole, Tricia said--helped brush snow off of the man while he smiled brightly at her. They seemed fine, but Tweek had a sinking feeling grow in the pit of his stomach.

“Yes,” Tricia assured him. “Token led us to Princess Kenny. They opened the doors of their home to let us sleep at night and shared their own limited food at their dinner table. When we were ambushed by the Dark Kingdom--”

“ _ You were what?” _

Tricia rolled her eyes. “Let me finish. When we were ambushed by the Dark Kingdom, they risked their lives to fight them off alongside us.” As she finished the sentence, her smile slowly faded. “They weren’t going to join us, but they were caught helping us. They’re marked as loyalists to us and would have nowhere else to go.”

“I see…” The young couple gave each other a quick kiss. He didn’t distrust the judgement of Tricia, and he knew Stan especially was incredibly cautious about things like that. Still, Tweek had  _ reasons _ to be wary, didn’t he?

“C’mon, let me introduce you to the new guys!” She pulled him once more, jerking him forward and causing a mild pain to his shoulder socket. “Token! Nicole! Your Highness!”

Her voice prompted the three of them to look towards them. Tricia pulled Tweek along and stopped in front of them. Nicole flashed Tweek a particularly warm smile.

“You must be Prince Tweek. We’ve heard so much about you, Your Highness.”

“Just Tweek is fine,” he said a little too quickly, “But...yes, I am. I’m the heir apparent to the Barbarian Throne and will do everything in my power to restore Zaron.”

“I never expected to have an alliance with the Barbarians,” the man-- _ Token _ \--said with a smirk, “but then I never expected to join an elven alliance in the Dwarven Kingdom to stop the Dark Kingdom years after they were supposedly gone for good. So, you know, stranger things have happened.”

“I guess so.”

“But we haven’t formally introduced ourselves,” Nicole cut Token off, “My name is Nicole, and this is my husband, Token. I am a former knight, and my husband is a cleric. We helped the City of Kupa Keep resist from the Dark Kingdom, and hope to now use our skills to support the larger resistance.”

“What she said, basically,” Token said.

“Thanks,” Tweek said. He cringed at his awkwardness, but he wasn’t exactly sure how else to respond. The Kupa language was especially hard for him to sound cordial in. His eyes drifted away from them and towards the princess.

She had been silent the entire time, standing a few paces away but staring at them nonetheless. Tweek had seen a few paintings of her in his lifetime, so even if he didn’t expect her presence, he’d have recognized her immediately. 

She was known for her beauty, and Tweek could see why. Although her nose and cheeks were flushed from the cold she had just been in, her skin was otherwise smooth and perfect. She had features like a porcelain doll--flowy golden hair, full lips, a button nose, and big light blue eyes. She had a heavy purple winter shawl over a flowy dress, making her royalty even more apparent, even if the fashion was elven over Kupa.

She seemed so  _ innocent _ . Tweek couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor girl. She was cursed and forced to live in an animalistic state in a tower for years, only to wake up and see that the entire world had been flipped on its head for the worse. She must be absolutely terrified, and Tweek wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to hide here and avoid central conflicts.

She opened her bright pink lips to speak.

“So you’re that Barbarian that fucked the Mage or whatever.”

Tweek blinked. “E-Excuse me?”

She took a few steps forward, looking at him from head to toe as if studying him. “I can see why he’d go for you. I’ll be honest, I expected some big buff Barbarian hunk, but you’re pretty cute. And you have that naivety about you, so it makes sense he tricked you. I mean, I’d go for you too, if I didn’t have a blond hottie of my own.”

“Your Highness,” Tricia cut in, stepping in between the two of them. Tweek could hear Token trying to suppress laughter. “I don’t think--”

“Tricia, what exactly did you tell her?” 

Her blue eyes grew larger than the big gems in the dwarven mining carts. Her mouth fell open as she tried to speak. “I-I  _ didn’t _ ...I--”

“Tricia.”

“She’s telling the truth, Your Highness,” Nicole cut in abruptly, gently but firmly putting a hand each on Tricia and Tweek. “You see, Tricia being the younger sister of the Mage was a shock to us, and Her Highness was skeptical. Stan defended her by saying that you once traveled with him.”

“And that he was convinced you two were romantically involved,” Token finished. There was a slight smirk on his face, as if he found it amusing.

“Yeah, what they said,” the princess said, rolling her eyes, “but I mean, I buy it.”

Tricia lowered her head. “Stan was defending me, but it was wrong of him to speculate.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow at Tweek and took a step towards him. “But like...were you two…?”

Tweek’s hands tightened into fists. “Why are you even questioning this? He is our  _ enemy _ . Yes, I once traveled with him and yes, I was fooled by him, but so were many people! He revealed his true nature to us, and that’s all that matters.” He gestured at Tricia. “And don’t even  _ think _ of questioning Tricia’s loyalty. Yes, she’s his younger sister, but she is a hero who knows what’s at stake and has been more than willing to put her blood aside.”

Tricia didn’t answer, but instead seemed to grow smaller next to him. He wondered if he went too far. 

“But anyway,” Tweek said, turning away from her, “It’s nice to meet you all.”

The sound of the dwarves in the city square going about their daily life filled the awkward silence. Tweek opened his mouth to speak again, but paused. He closed his mouth again and continued to turn away and leave.

He wasn’t quite sure where he was going. He figured he should head back to the meeting room, as they would likely have a meeting soon anyway. He sighed and continued on, trying to avoid bumping into passerbys.

Suddenly, he felt a tug on his arm. He instinctively jumped.

“Tweek.” It was Tricia’s voice. She sounded slightly out of breath, as if she had decided at the last minute to run after him.

“Yes?” He turned around and saw that her head was hung low, loose hairs falling over her face. Her grip loosened, but she didn’t let go completely.

“Can I talk to you in private?” she asked, her gaze raising ever so slowly. Her grip loosened completely and her hand fell to her side. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

She said it in Barbarian. She wasn’t fluent in the language and her accent was often hard to understand, but she learned from Tweek quite well. Even still, it was rare for her to start a conversation in it outside of the context of studying. 

“About?” Tweek tilted his head slightly. 

“About La Resistance. About my brother. About  _ everything _ .”

A hand smacked Tweek’s shoulder. He turned around and saw Stan. “C’mon, you two. We have a briefing to do,” he said in Elvish.

Tweek looked back at Tricia. A troubled yet hard to read expression came across her face.

“We really should go,” Tweek told her. She bit her bottom lip but nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was going to have a one shot side story on Tweek's backstory, but I couldn't think of a central conflict. So instead I'm implementing parts of what I wrote here!
> 
> Thanks for the continued support!! Please leave a comment! Any sort of feedback is appreciated :D


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read that it's Craig's birthday? Well it's an excuse to finally post an update.

_ A year after darkness had fallen upon Zaron, La Resistance responded to a cry for help. _

_ It wasn’t a particularly surprising distress call, given that it came from the Kingdom of Kupa Keep. After all, the Dark Lord and the Mage had personal grudges against the kingdom, giving them the brunt of the brutal force the Dark Army oversaw. Although La Resistance suffered its own losses and damages quite heavily, especially with the High Elf Kingdom’s city out of commission, they still sought to regain ground. Helping Kupa City proper was out of the question in terms of scale, but they did their part to assist smaller villages and smaller kingdoms. _

_ “With such a tiny village like this, I just hope we’re not too late,” said Tricia. She had seen first hand how quickly a small agrarian village could be completely decimated. She had lived it. But the distress call said that while it was urgent, it was not a blind slaughter and destruction, but rather an occupation. Those tended to  _ also _ be quite bloody, and if the villagers were too much of a hassle, the Dark Kingdom may decide that their existence was more trouble than it was worth. _

_ “Yes,” Tweek said. He gave a firm nod, but looked forward out onto the expansive darkness before him. _

_ Cutting through the Lost Forest was the only current option for them. The dwarves had grown stricter than ever in cutting off their tunnels, valuing their own safety and neutrality more than ever. It wasn’t an impossible journey, by any means. Jimmy and Stan cut through only a few weeks prior, and Tweek was more suited to traversing it than anyone, all things considered. What troubled him was that it was his first time back. _

_ It was never bright in the Lost Forest, yet now it was even darker. Sure, it was darker  _ everywhere  _ in Zaron, but this was...different somehow. Like the eerie magic that surrounded this place had become subdued. Tweek knew the magic was always of the dark sort, yet it always had a chaotic, somewhat angry feeling to it. Now the forest just felt...sad. _

_ “Do you think we’ll see any of your people?” Tricia asked. The Barbarians, she meant. This was their home, after all. _

_ He didn’t answer. _

\---

“It’s been a very long time, Your Highness.”

Kyle was good at formalities. He was an expert diplomat, far better than Tweek could ever hope to be. Tweek may have been trained in such things, but the isolated Barbarian culture left many holes in knowledge. Kyle, on the other hand, had been groomed from a young age to be not only a powerful leader of his own, but of the entire underground alliance. Despite everything going on in the world, one could sleep somewhat well with the knowledge that La Resistance was in good hands under him.

“Wow,” Princess Kenny said, her wide blue eyes slowly scanning him from his crown to his shoes, “You’ve sure grown up.”

“As have you,” he said, pulling her a seat at the large stone table, “And given that we feared for the worst for so long, I’m incredibly grateful that you have.”

“I guess,” she said with a shrug, sitting in the seat he offered her, “Though the world’s gone to absolute shit since I’ve been out, so...y’know.”

“The  _ outside _ world,” King Dougie corrected from his large seat at the end of the table. All the stone chairs were grand, but as the resident king, his was of course the largest and  _ most _ grand. “The Dwarven Kingdom has done fairly well.”

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes as she slouched in her chair. She had a look of disinterest on her face, but Tweek could tell it was forced. Her eyes appeared too far away.

“What Princess Kenny means is,” Kyle answered for her, “The entirety of Zaron has fallen into darkness. She awoke and witnessed firsthand the massive destruction thrust upon her kingdom.” 

Kenny shrugged, her eyes still far away. 

“And as I said to your  _ Prince  _ Tweek and  _ King  _ Kyle,” the dwarf king said, speaking directly to Kenny, “We’re sympathetic to all that, but we have to protect our own. We can’t let what happened to the outside world come here.”

That seemed to snap Kenny into the present. For a moment her expression was unreadable, but quickly a smile grew across her lips. She straightened up and leaned forward, hands resting flat on the table. “So let me get this straight: You’re aware that the world is fucked. You feel bad about it--or at least bad about it enough to house us. But you won’t do  _ too _ much, because you’re a coward.”

“ _ Excuse _ me?” the dwarf king asked. His two guards behind him took a step forward.

Tweek moved his head to look at the other members of La Resistance. Stan grimaced from where he stood behind Kyle, while Tricia was biting the inside of her mouth to avoid any expression where she stood behind Kenny. Kyle merely looked on, seeming unphased. No one dared to say anything.

“Listen,” Tweek said, deciding to break the silence. He stood up from his chair and faced the king directly. “We understand wanting to protect your people. We are grateful for you letting La Resistance stay here. That alone is a big risk. But--”

“It  _ is _ a risk,” King Dougie cut him off, “One that I don’t see  _ you _ taking, your highness. I haven’t seen a single Barbarian soldier running around, just you.”

Tweek closed his mouth. He sat back down.

“The Barbarians  _ are  _ resisting,” Kyle said, “They have been fighting valiantly the entire time against the Dark Kingdom.”

“And it was my decision,” Tweek said, his eyes focused on his hands resting on his lap. “They  _ have  _ been attacked by the Dark Kingdom. It’s an insult to imply they aren’t involved when they-- _ we _ , have lost so much, have fought so much. But...I want to leave a message to the Dark Kingdom that they’re not part of this. I can’t let my people be destroyed on my account.”

Barbarians were tough, but it wasn't as if they were infallible. They may have been able to keep others out of their forest for centuries, but it was the forces of outsiders that trapped them there in the first place. They were great warriors, and their brute strength and determination to survive taught them how to take advantage of their terrain, while also taking advantage of the fact that the outside world knew very little about both it and their culture.

Tweek recklessly shared information, when he thought he could trust  _ him.  _ He didn't give away their deepest secrets and tactics, but rather enough carefully obscured information that would leave them vulnerable. There was no doubt the Dark Lord would abuse it.

But they didn't. Sure, Barbarians were attacked. They suffered. But their secrets, their traditions, hidden knowledge of the forest—none of it was used against them. 

But why? Did he really value keeping his word that he wouldn't share. Or was his lack of interest so strong that he didn't bother, perhaps even forgetting most of what Tweek said.

He figured it was likely the latter. Though he wanted to assume it was apathy, thinking the Barbarians weren't worth the trouble. He would assume that the Dark Kingdom  _ could _ use everything against them, and that it was best to not put them in more turmoil than they already were. 

“How’s that any different than me?” the King asked, interrupting his train of thought. 

“ _ Because _ , you dwarf brat,” Kenny said a bit too loudly, “He said it himself. The Barbarians are  _ already  _ fucking involved. Shit, I didn’t even know anything about them, but I could gather that much from this conversation. The Barbarians are part of the end game of whatever salvation we’re going for, and when the time comes I’m sure we’ll get around to them, but right now we’re focusing on the civilized humans who are getting the brunt of the shit.”

Tweek flinched slightly at the word  _ civilized _ . But he knew what she meant.

Tricia opened her mouth, though it took her a second for words to come out. “Wh-What Princess Kenny means is--”

Kenny raised a hand up in front of Tricia. “He knows exactly what I mean,” she said, her crystal blue eyes firmly locked on the dwarf king, “He knows we’re facing an absolute evil right now. One unlike  _ anything  _ Zaron has ever dealt with. He knows that dwarves have  _ always _ been able to put their foot down to humans and elves alike. But now, when thousands of people are dying, he wants to act like fucking victims hiding away in the mountain. Bullshit. You might think you’re doing enough by hiding us, but you aren’t. You have a lack of action beyond the bareist of minimums, you know what you’re doing? You’re siding with the Dark Kingdom is what you’re doing.”

Dougie didn’t respond right away, and it was clear that no one else in La Resistance was able to come up with something to add. Kenny, on the other hand, seemed perfectly pleased with herself, sitting arms crossed with a smirk.

Tweek stared at her, dumbfounded. This smug, blabbermouth, completely tact free princess was going to get them thrown out of this mountain.

But then something happened that surprised Tweek. The Dwarf King laughed.

“I like you,” he said, wiping a tear of laughter from his eyes, “You have guts.”

“Of course I do. How else do you think I survived so long sharing a home with that piece of shit wizard?” Her grin widened. She looked around the room, sure to look in the eyes of every person there.. “La Resistance saved me for good reason, you know. I can help all of you wipe the Dark Kingdom off the face of the world once and for all.” She looked at King Dougie again. “But we  _ need _ your resources to make it work.”

“Alright,” he said, “I won’t make any decisions, but I’ll think about what you said.”

\---

“I’m not sure how that went both better  _ and _ worse than I expected,” Tricia mused. 

“With her big mouth, nothing really surprises me,” Stan said with a scowl as he set up his bedding on the ground. The room felt more like a cave than a room proper, given the natural, jagged stone walls that were rounded in a way that made where the walls ended and ceilings began indistinguishable. Still, they were given bedrolls and a pot of coals in the center kept it warm and lit. 

As royalty, Tweek was given his own private room. It was nicer and grander, though kept with Dwarf sensibilities and taste. It was a great honor, but in his opinion...completely unnecessary. Stan, Tricia, and Jimmy were just as important as him, if not more. He had wanted to allow them to share his, but apparently that was  _ improper _ . Tricia added that it would also be unfair to the others in La Resistance. Tweek didn’t see it that way, but relented. At least he still got to visit them while the evening was young.

“Kenny’s not s-s-stupid,” Jimmy said, idley tuning his lute, “She had a point about growing up with the Grand Wizard. For all his flaws, for better or worse, he did get things done. She’d be a much better ruler than him, but we can’t underestimate her and the culture from which she comes. Plus, she’s exiled, while her country is in tatters. She’ll do anything to get h--get her throne back.”

“I agree,” Tricia said. She unlooped her braid from its bun, slowly undoing the strands. As her reddish hair fell around her face, her hands paused. “I just…”

“You’re the one who always worshiped her,” Stan said, poking her cheek. He had a tired smile on his face, one he gave to few people. “You having doubts about her now?”

“No!” She shook her head. “I...She deserves to be free, and...she is a great asset. I-I like her. It…I just...”

Tweek bit his bottom lip. Although Stan and Jimmy knew her longer than him, the prior especially being closer to her than Tweek himself, this was something those two couldn’t understand. He did. In this regard at least.

“Tricia, let’s go for a walk,” he said. Stan and Jimmy looked to him, as if they had forgotten he was in the room with them. To be fair, he had been nearly silent the whole time.

Tricia tilted her head in confusion. “Sure, but--”

“You wanted to talk,” Tweek said in Barbarian. He knew Jimmy might understand, given his time with the Barbarians giving him basic knowledge in the language, but he knew better than to react to it. It didn’t matter, anyway. Jimmy wasn’t the one he didn’t want to understand.

“Alright,” she said, standing up. She tied her hair back with a simple knot and grabbed her lighter cloak. She faced the other two men to address them. “I’ll try to be quiet when I come back, so don’t bother staying up for me.”

“Implying Jimmy here won’t still be playing music,” Stan said, gesturing back at him with his elbow.

“Stay safe you two,” Jimmy said, ignoring Stan’s comment. He finished tuning and put the lute on his lap.

“We will,” Tweek said. He opened the heavy stone door, to which Tricia quickly scurried to. The sound of a calming song Jimmy was starting escaped out with them.

The room led out to a tunnel-style road surrounded by many similar rooms built into the mountain walls aligning it. It was chillier than the main city area and not very well lit, presumably being the low rent district of the Kingdom. La Resistance wasn’t paying and it was much nicer than the frozen grounds they had gotten accustomed to, but Tweek was less grateful when thinking about his own, grand apartment.

“Where we going?” Tricia asked in Barbarian. Her grammar was slightly off, but Tweek found it charming.

“The city center,” he responded in Elvish, “It’s pretty active at night--I think you’ll like it.”

“We aren’t here for fun,” she reminded him.

“I wasn’t planning on going into active nightlife.”

She took a moment to respond. “Alright then.”

They continued walking in silence. A few straggling dwarves going in either direction to their homes passed them, all of whom seemed dirty and tired after a hard day’s work. Some gawked at them while others did their best to avoid looking at them at all. More than once, a gust of wind went through the tunnel, blowing a frigid breeze directly onto their faces, the howling of it piercing their ears. Low rent district, indeed.

“You know,” he started to say, breaking the quiet hallway, with noise only from the wind and their footsteps. He focused on the sound of their steady footsteps, pattering in a perfect rhythm on the uneven ground. He inhaled. “We all need to come to terms with the fact that your brother is our enemy.” 

Tricia didn’t respond. She kept her head down. He figured she would pretend she didn’t hear him.

“I’m serious, Tricia,” he said.

She still didn’t respond. The end of the tunnel was in sight, made more evident by the shining light of the city center. Although it was still a little bit away, the pinhole effect made the brightness intense, like a golden flame out in front of them. Instead he focused on his dimly lit feet, quietly making footprints in the dirt. There were many footprints here, from all the people going on about their lives. 

“I was blindsided by him, too, you know. I’m not going to pretend we’re exactly the same--he’s brother. But..I cared for him, too. I-I really thought he was a good person.”

“He  _ is _ a good person,” Tricia said, her voice barely audible. The rays of light from the open city began to reach them directly. With it, the sounds of the dwarves in the square and their carts rolling by became audible.Tweek slowed down his pace, not wanting their conversation to be drowned out by it.

“Tricia,” he said, “You’ve seen what he’s done. More than once. We--You can’t let personal feelings blind you of that. I didn’t want to believe it, but I  _ saw _ him. We  _ both _ saw him. I  _ understand  _ he saved your life years ago, I  _ understand _ that during your childhood he was a good brother and good person. But…” He turned away, unable to look her in the eye any longer. “Your brother is gone.”

Tricia stopped at the edge of the tunnel, her eyes staring aimlessly in front of her.

“It’s Clyde,” she said, “He corrupted him. He-He  _ used _ him. Since the day they met he’s been poisoning my brother, twisting him into something he’s not. In hindsight it was obvious even back in Sundorham when we were kids. I...I wish I had a way of knowing, of stopping it. This...What he’s doing now. It’s not who he is. It’s what Clyde  _ made _ him into.”

“Even if that’s true,” Tweek said, feeling the artificial lights of the city warm his face. As hard as it was, he looked Tricia in the eyes once more. “He still made his own decisions. I understand manipulation makes people do what they wouldn’t normally, but it can’t excuse someone for actively trying to destroy the world and everyone in it.”

“ _ Is _ that what he’s doing?” Tricia asked. Her pale blue eyes were locked into his with an intensity that startled him. He didn’t know how to respond.

Tricia sighed disappointedly and shook her head. She continued down the carved out incline ramp at the end of the tunnel into the open city--regardless of whether Tweek was intending on following her.

“Tricia! Tricia don’t run off!” he called, rushing after her as soon as he got over himself. He nearly tripped on the unstable rock incline, but was determined to not let her get too far away. He figured she was angry, but when she turned around to look at him, her expression was blank.

“Let’s find somewhere to sit down,” she said, “Somewhere not too crowded. We shouldn’t assume people here don’t speak the same languages we do.”

As they entered the open square, dwarves didn’t try to dodge the two humans standing inconveniently in the middle of their walking path. One nearly knocked Tweek over. Tricia didn’t seem to notice, instead lost in thought.

It was a demeanor she shared with her brother. He didn’t like to compare them for numerous reasons, but the way they both seemed to get lost in their own heads and completely unaware of their surroundings was almost eerie. Of course, it was far worse with her brother. Tricia appreciated the beauty of the world and showed signs of actually caring. But the parallel in their stubbornness and sticking with their own worldviews was at times unsettling.

“We could go to my suite,” he offered.

She shook her head. “I trust there less than here.”

Tweek blinked. Was she implying the Dwarf King was spying on him? That wasn’t a pleasant thought. He quickly decided that he’d rather not know if they were, and didn’t press further.

“Well?” Tricia said, “You know this place more than me.”

“R-Right,” he said. Sure, he hadn’t been here  _ long _ , but his mind instantly thought of a place. “I have an idea. Let’s go.”

It wasn’t too terribly far away, though the crowded streets made it take longer than it would have otherwise. It struck Tweek just how  _ normal _ everything was here, people going on about their evening as if the strife with the Dark Kingdom never happened. Perhaps they  _ were _ wrong to get these peaceful, happy people involved, potentially ruining this sanctuary they had. Before he could dwell on it too long, however, they made it to their destination.

It was hard to label what the place was--something in between a park, a garden, and a simple sitting space. The lack of sunlight led to no plants one could see in a forest, but there were mosses of various kinds, some even flowered. Stone benches were carved out of the ground with the craftsmanship and artistry one could only expect from the Dwarven Kingdom. Of course, given that they were for dwarves, they were shorter than comfortable and required bent knees. At least they were scores bigger than something for gnomes, at least.

“You always find the nicest places,” Tricia mused. She reached out here hand and allowed a glowing butterfly-like creature to land on her finger.

“To be fair, one of the king’s soldiers recommended this place to me.”

“Still,” she said with a crooked grin as she sat down. She allowed the creature to fly from her hand, though her gaze followed it as it flew up into the dark ceilings of the mountain. Tweek smiled and sat down next to her.

As soon as they were both sitting next to each other, the temporary lighthearted feeling faded, replaced by the awkwardness of before.

Tricia exhaled softly. “Do you ever wonder if we’re truly on the right side?”

Tweek stared at her. There were a lot of things he could say to a statement like that. If it were any other person, they probably wouldn’t be particularly nice. But it  _ was _ Tricia. “Stan wouldn’t be happy if he heard you say that,” he tried to say playfully.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “Clyde is evil. What the Dark Kingdom is doing is evil. My brother...he’s misguided. There is no doubt about that. We definitely are in the right to try and stop them. We  _ must _ stop them.”

“It’s that village, isn’t it?”

Tricia didn’t answer. She looked up, staring at the glowing insects and creatures swarming above them.

But she didn’t need to answer. And although they helped many villages, he knew he didn’t need to clarify. The small village the two of them were sent to rescue. The one that sent out a distress call to them, begging them for help. They had rushed there, fully prepared to risk everything to help them.

Tweek’s immediate response when he arrived at the seemingly unscathed village was initially relief. The buildings were all there, people going about their life. No signs of damage, no one that appeared to be a soldier or representative from the Dark Kingdom. Yet the normality of the small farming village quickly created an unsettling feeling within him. It wasn’t long until his skepticism was validated.

It was a trap.

Traps were to be expected in a war. The Dark Kingdom was known for its nefarious tactics. If it were merely a trap put on by the Dark Lord of Mage, or any one of their cronies, it wouldn’t have been that much of a surprise.

But it wasn’t. The Dark Kingdom itself had nothing to do with it.

It was a trap laid for them by the villagers themselves, by their own volition.

They  _ loved _ the Dark Kingdom. The words of their leader rang through his ears.

_ “The elite of Kupa suppressed us. We were prisoners of our own land. Kupa and their allies sucked us dry harvest after harvest that  _ we _ grew, but no more. The Dark Mage kept his promise. He liberated us. He sees our value. We serve the Dark Kingdom, and it serves us.” _

Tricia tried to reason with them. How she understood their plight-- _ she _ came from a serf village like them, too. She understood the desire for liberation, but the Dark Kingdom poisoned Zaron. The Dark Mage may have spared them, but darkness they created, both literally and figuratively, set destruction to most of the land. They worked the land, they could see how the frozen, dark ground made harvests nonexistent. It wasn’t sustainable, and it wasn’t  _ right _ . They should join La Resistance. Together they could save  _ all _ people and restore the state of the world.

Restore.

Any ears that had been listening to Tricia’s plea with an open mind up until that point were turned off by that one word. 

La Resistance was trying to revert things to the way they once were. To take away their newfound freedoms and make them serfs once more. They would have nothing of it.

Tweek and Tricia were lucky to escape. They were able to slip out of the shed they were imprisoned in, no real harm done. Physically, at least.

_ Emotionally _ it affected Tricia heavily.

“Do you think the villagers were right about us?” Tricia finally asked.

“No,” Tweek said, shaking his head, “I understand their frustrations with the world. The Kingdom of Kupa Keep had always been one of the most oppressive, and it was inevitable it would be its downfall. It’s what happened to your brother, and it’s why he was sympathetic to that village. And maybe he did improve their lives. But...that doesn’t mean it’s okay to level  _ other _ villages. Sure, the elite of Zaron  _ are _ corrupt and unfair, but in trying to teach  _ them _ a lesson, more innocents are getting hurt than elites.”

“I don’t disagree,” Tricia said, “And the Dark Kingdom is a corrupt  _ elite _ in and of themselves. It’s just...I don’t know. Say we win, what happens then?  _ Will  _ things go back to the way they were before? Will the same environment that created this mess still...exist?”

“Well, we certainly won’t let the Wizard get back into power,” Tweek said, “And I’m sure Princess Kenny will rule more fairly than him.”

“But will it be enough?”

“No one knows,” he admitted. “But this wasn’t what you wanted to talk to me about. Was it?”

“It was. Partially.”

“Partially?”

She looked down at her hands resting on her lap. “I have other reasons beyond that village to question all of this. I  _ do  _ have reasons to believe my brother isn’t beyond saving.”

“Tricia--”

“I know you think I’m crazy. I know  _ everyone _ thinks I’m crazy. But the prophecy--”

“Even King Kyle abandoned that. Sure, Cra-- _ your brother _ might be special, but that doesn’t mean the prophecies surrounding him were true.”

“But should he have?” she asked, looking at him with more intensity than ever. There seemed to be tears forming around her eyes. Stress tears. “You don’t even know what the prophecy  _ is _ .”

“I know enough,” he said, “That he was supposed to save Zaron from itself. But, well...” He gestured his arms out vaguely.

“No,” she said abruptly, “I mean you’re not completely wrong, but there’s more to it than that.” 

“What do you mean?”

She lifted her hand, allowing another glowing creature to land on her finger. Looking at it instead of him, she asked, “How familiar are you with High Elf mythology?”

“Only the basics. Mostly what you’ve told me. It’s hard to learn when so much of it is kept secretive by the High Priests.”

“Keepers of the Knowledge,” she said, watching the creature flutter its wings, “Knowledge that could cause disaster in the wrong hands. One small leak of information led to the deaths of countless magical children in Kupa.” The creature flew away. She lowered her hand. “But I think some of the secretiveness only creates distrust. Especially when it involves people fighting for something they don’t know.”

This wasn’t the first time Tricia left him speechless. Sure, the vagueness was noticeable when it came to all of this, but Tweek had come to accept that as a normality with non-Barbarians. Especially the elves. He figured Tricia’s own personality was part of it, being raised by them for a large portion of her life.

He didn’t particularly  _ mind _ . He  _ did _ know what he was fighting for. To stop the evil kingdom and save the world. It was a pretty basic objective, and not one he needed a long history for. Plus, Barbarians didn’t use magic and didn’t exactly take stock in prophecy, so the idea of one being wrong didn’t take his interest like it might others.

Still, despite Tricia’s  _ normal _ cageiness, this was different. It sent an unsettling feeling through his stomach, almost as if he were about to fall from a great height.

“What are you trying to say?” he finally asked.

A slight smile grew across her lips. “How about I tell you the story of how magic first came to Zaron?”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think 😭💕
> 
> This took me forever and the editing was done like patchwork but... well, it's out now

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think! Comments (constructive, extremely brief, anything!) are always welcome!!! 
> 
> You can also find me on Twitter or Tumblr both @ wintergrew. 
> 
> I postponed posting this because of all that's going on in the world. Please support #blm and other movements going on in other places like the Philippines and Hong Kong. https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/


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